The Fires of Sibling Love
by NomineDiaboli
Summary: RD: The flames of passion burn ever brightly here, where incest reigns supreme. Enter at your own risk!
1. Passion

**Welcome to my Fires of Sibling Love series of fanfics, and thanks for clicking on the link. As you probably have noticed, every story here is based off of an incestual relationship, so you have been warned.**

**I have another warning to give you, or actually, more like a request. This is the first chapter of this series, published some 8 months before the second chapter. In that period of time, I like to believe I evolved very much as a writer, so, in my opinion at least, the stories in general get better each chapter. Not only that, but my other stories in this series contain much more lemon than this one does. This chapter is really the odd one out for this fanfic. Because of this, I ask that you reserved judgement on my humble fanfic, be it good or bad, until you at least read Chapter 2. It you don't like this one, you might like the others. If you don't like Chapter 2, I wouldn't bother reading anymor =P. Thanks for your consideration, and enjoy.**

* * *

**Passion**

_He's late_, thought Lucia, while standing outside a bar in Melior. _What if he doesn't come?_ Lucia forced that thought out of her mind. Her secret admirer would come.

It all started two weeks ago. Lucia had been out jogging, and when she came back, a letter was lying on her doorstep. "Huh. I wonder who this is from?" She opened the letter and began to read:

_Dear Lucia,_

_I'm sorry if this sounds creepy to you, but I've been admiring you ever since I laid eyes on you. Your beauty surpasses that of any other being on this Earth. Your radiance makes the moon pale with jealousy and the sun red with anger. Your kindness could make a serial killer reform, and your smile is warm enough to melt stone. I love you._

_Sincerely,_

_Your Secret Admirer_

Lucia was astonished when she finished reading the letter. No one had ever spoke to her that way before... Except for Bastian, that is, but Bastian had already been executed for trying to rape her, so who could it be? Lucia racked her brain for an answer but could find none. She sighed and entered her house.

The next day, she found another letter on her doorstep. She excitedly broke the seal and read the letter. She nearly fainted with delight when she saw it was from her secret admirer. She knew men often stared at her ample breasts, but none had ever complimented in so romantic a way.

The letters came every day for two weeks, and Lucia saved every one of them. Her secret admirer became the center of her life, her reason to wake up each morning. She was dying to meet the man who was so smitten with her, and her wish finally came true. In his final letter, her secret admirer invited Lucia to meet him outside of a bar in Melior, the night after that, so they could talk.

Lucia spent the whole day fixing herself up. She went to salon to have her hair and nails done. She spent three hours in front of her closet, trying to find an outfit that would accentuate her gorgeous breasts and ass, but not make her look like a prostitute, and eventually went to the tailor and spent all the money she made that month on buying a new outfit that looked just perfect on her.

Finally, the night came. Lucia went to the bar where they were to meet, looking more radiant than ever. Her heart pounded wildly, and she had to work hard to keep herself from shouting out with joy.

The minutest passed. Lucia became impatient, nervous that he might not come, angry with herself for believing that he would come. She sighed and sat on the ground against the wall. _He isn't coming... _Tears formed in her eyes, and she hurriedly brushed them away but they kept coming. She hid her face in her arms and sobbed. She knew the tears were ruining her makeup, but she didn't care. He never loved her, nobody had ever loved her as anything more that a sex object...

Then she heard a familiar voice. She wiped her eyes and looked up. There, in front of the door to the bar, she saw Geoffrey, carrying a rose. She was surprised, since she had never known Geoffrey to have any interest in dating since Elincia ran off with Ike. She got up, checking herself with a pocket mirror to make sure she looked at least presentable, first, and walked over to where Geoffrey was standing. "Geoffrey!" she called out.

Geoffrey turned toward her and said, "Lucia!", before embracing her.

Lucia noticed he was being exceptionally careful with the rose, and smiled. "That's a lovely rose, Geoffrey, who's the lucky girl?" she teased, bending down to get a closer look. _At least somebody's heart won't be broken tonight..._

"Why, Lucia," Geoffrey said, running a hand down her arm. "It's for _you_."

Lucia snapped her head up to look into her brother's eyes. "Excuse me?" _It can't be..._

Geoffrey grabbed Lucia's hand in firm yet gentle grip and looked into Lucia's eyes. "Lucia..." he said softly. "_I'm_ your secret admirer."

"No... It can't be..." Lucia tried pulling her hands away from her brother, but he wouldn't let go. "Let go of me! Creep!"

"Lucia..." He spoke soothingly, like a lion tamer to a particularly dangerous lion. "I meant every word I said to you in those letters. I love you with all of my heart. Please... Please, give me a chance..." He kneeled on the ground before her and stared up into her enchanting eyes. "Please, you are my only love..."

_My god, he's serious..._She looked into her brother's eyes, and said, "W-what about Elincia?"

Geoffrey looked away for her, studying the ground at her feet. "Queen Elincia... She was merely a distraction. I didn't... I couldn't believe that I loved you... You were my sister, and I knew that my feelings were wrong... So I tried to hide them from myself by loving someone else..."

In an instant, Lucia knew that she loved him, too. She pulled her hands out of his hands, and bent down. "Geoffrey... I love you, too." And with that, she used her hands to bring Geoffrey's face closer to her, and gave him a long, passionate kiss. As her tongue darted around Geoffrey's mouth, she place her hand on his crotch and started rubbing his manhood through his pants. Geoffrey disengaged from Lucia, a surprised look on his face. Lucia smiled coyly, and pulled on Geoffrey's hand. "Why don't we go somewhere more private?"

She led him to one of the bedrooms on the second floor of the bar. As soon as Geoffrey locked the door behind them, Lucia leapt on him, and passion seemed to radiate from them as their lips locked together. Geoffrey took her in his arms and slowly and gently removed her dress, revealing her naked body. After what seemed like an eternity, their lips finally seperated, and they stared deep into each other's eyes. Then, without warning, Geoffrey threw Lucia onto the bed and leapt on after her. Lucia squealed and giggled as she hit the bed, her breasts bouncing. She helped Geoffrey pull his pants down, and then they became one.

Lucia woke up the next morning feeling tired yet exhilerated. She opened her eyes and the first things she saw were Geoffrey's eyes, looking back at her. They both smiled, and Geoffrey stretched his hand over to stroke her cheek. Lucia shuddered with delight, and she jumped on top of him, making love to him with all of the red hot passion of a burning flame.

BANG! The door to bedroom crashed to the floor and several armed men entered the room. Geoffrey jumped out of bed and pushed Lucia behind him. "What is the meaning of this?" he bellowed, pulling his spear off the ground.

A soldier wearing red armor and wielding a large axe stepped forward. "Commander Geoffrey, Lady Lucia," said Kieran, his voice soft for once. "You have been found guilty of the crime of incest. The punishment for that... is death."

"WHAT?" Geoffrey screamed.

Lucia collapsed upon the bed. "It can't be..."

Kieran averted his eyes. "I'm sorry... Fire when ready." Four snipers stepped forward, who simultaneously notched their arrows, pulled them back, and fired.


	2. Obsession

**Obsession**

_Ike's fists clenched with longing as he saw her saunter closer. The room was bathed in darkness, the flickering candle creating more shadows than light. The only light fell upon the girl's chest, creating deep shadows on her breasts, making them look bigger and more beautiful, even under the reddish vest she was wearing. The unknown girl fell upon him, her mouth clamping down upon his own, her tongue sliding between his lips and caressing his own. She sat down on his lap, and he in turn sat upon a soft bed that made what they were doing even more enticing._

_Ike felt the girl bring her slim arms around his muscular frame, her tiny hands caressing his back and shoulders. He slid his hands up her perfectly petite body, allowing them to brush past her breasts and wrap around her, pulling her right up against his chest. Their tongues were still intertwined, coming apart only to give a moan of delight. Her head was now directly in front of the candle, obscuring any view he had of her._

_Ike shivered as she pulled his shirt over his head. When their lips parted company for a few seconds to give the useless cloth passage, he slid both his hands up her front, allowing one hand to squeeze her breast, and the other to clasp the small metal zipper at the base of her neck. With a soft squealing noise, the zipper came undone and she threw it off of her, leaving only a soft cloth dress in its place. His left hand returned to her breast. His thumb found her nipple through the fabric, and he gently rubbed it as her back arched slightly with pleasure. His other hand slid down between her legs rubbing her through her panties. Her head tilted back away from his and he heard her let out a faint gasp. She pulled him closer and he brought his lips down to her neck. He could her panting softly into his ear and he renewed his efforts. His hand pulled her panties down her smooth legs to her knees. This time, she gave a very audible gasp as his fingers than penetrated her. _

_Finally, she couldn't take it. Her back arched and she let out a moan of pleasure as her climax overtook her. She fell off him onto his bed, her breasts rising and falling gently as her breathing slowed. Ike leaned over her prone form, getting ready to pleasure himself. The candle was behind him now, and though he was on top of her, a faint ray of light illuminated one side of her body. His eyes traveled up it, taking in every gorgeous detail, from the way her legs were parted slightly to the way her breasts pressed through her dress. Finally his gaze fell upon her face, but all he could see of it was a single, lovely, pale-blue eye--_

BANG, BANG, BANG!

Ike shot straight up. His hand darted next to his bed to where his sword always rested while he was in bed, while his other hand sought to push the mysterious woman behind him. His hand felt nothing.

Ike glanced about. His room was bathed in sunlight, and he blinked to grow accustomed to the light. There was no sign of her anywhere. Reality dawned on him, and he fell back into bed. _It was all a dream_, Ike thought to himself. _Every glorious minute of it..._

BANG, BANG, BANG!

Ike jumped again. He had completely forgotten about the noise that woke him up. This time, a tough, female voice filtered through the heavy door. "Ike, get up! You're the one who ordered us to get up at the crack of dawn for a practice mission today, and you're still in bed! It's been an hour and a half and the rest of us have already eaten breakfast, so you'd better get your lazy ass up!" And with that, Titania stomped off.

Ike forced himself out of the bed that had been so inviting just a few minutes before he woke up and pulled some clothes on. After he strapped his scabbard to his belt, he shuffled off to the mess hall. He felt exhausted, as if the extra hour and a half of sleep had never happened. _Hopefully the others haven't eaten all the food_, he thought, and his stomach growled loudly. He entered the kitchen, where Oscar was busy cleaning the pots and pans he used for cooking. "Hey, Oscar," he called out. "Any food left?"

Oscar put down the pot he was washing and turned to look at him. He was an odd sight indeed, wearing his shining green armor while cleaning the dishes and wearing a housewife's apron. "I'm sorry, Ike, but we ate all of it, "apologized Oscar. "We do have some fruit in the pantry, but I think you should get outside, since Titania has already gotten her axe stuck in a tree waiting for you."

"I wonder what's gotten her panties in a knot..." grumbled Ike as he opened the pantry and pulled out an apple. "She's acting like a fucking taskmaster..." He grasped the pantry door tightly as the room suddenly spun in front of him.

Oscar was finishing putting all the dishes back into their rightful cabinets, so he didn't notice. He grabbed his spear. "Who knows? Anyway, Ike, we better get going." Ike's vision steadied suddenly, and he began to walk, rather unsteadily, behind Oscar.

Oscar kept talking to Ike as they made their way through the stone passages to the gate. He said something about Boyd throwing Oscar's ambrosia of a breakfast dish at Rolf, and Mist hurting her hand tripping down the stairs, and Mia trying to spar Rhys because Ike wasn't there and breaking an expensive healing staff, and Shinon scaring the shit out of the others by sending arrows flying within inches of their faces. Ike tried to pay attention to what Oscar was saying, but an odd, sickly feeling had come over him, almost completely shutting down his mental faculties.

Suddenly, Ike let out a gasp as a searing headache split his forehead in half. He pushed his hand over his face willing the excruciating pain to go away. It didn't.

Oscar looked over in surprise. "Ike what's wrong?" he asked, putting his hands on his shoulders.

"I- I don't know... I just got this massive headache... and I felt dizzy before... Shit!" Ike's head felt as if a nail was being driven through it.

Oscar looked worried. "You look terrible. Go back to your room and get some sleep. I'll tell the other's where you've gone."

Ike managed a smile through all the pain. "Thanks. Good luck on the practice mission."

"Thank you. Are you sure you don't need any help getting to your room?"

"No, no, I'll be fine... See ya'"

Oscar bit his lip. "If you're sure... Well, good bye." He jogged away, leaving Ike in his fort alone.

Ike forced himself to his feet and back to his quarters. He winced at the loud slam as the door closed. He managed to make it half-way to his bed before collapsing in a pathetic heap, with only the top half of his body making it. He dragged the rest of his body onto it, before finally laying his head on his pillow, ready for sleep to finally overtake him. He was severely disappointed when it didn't.

He felt terrible. His headache had lessened somewhat, but the extra slack had been picked up by a feeling of nausea and dehydration. He had never felt this weak before in his life. He didn't even have the energy to lift his arm, let alone get a drink.

_What the hell is going on?_, Ike asked himself. He sifted through his memories to see what could have caused this sudden and terrible illness. Food poisoning? No, he only ate Oscar's food, and everybody else would be sick too if that was the case. An STD? No, he could only remember having sex once outside his dreams, and that was one night after a wild drinking party with Mia. Mia had been so hammered that night that Ike doubted that she could even remember it, since he barely could and he had drunk half of what she had. Come to think of it, he had felt like this the day after that. Could he be having a hangover? Now that he thought about, he did vaguely recall drinking a lot the night before, but his mind was so fuzzy that he couldn't concentrate long enough to remember any more.

But there was one thing that Ike had no trouble remembering; the girl from his dream. She filled his thoughts with so many emotions that Ike in his dehabilitated state had difficulty sifting through them. Love, excitement, joy, and one other emotion, one which he couldn't place, one so different from the ones before. He tried to force himself to concentrate, but it didn't work. He groaned aloud as a particularly sharp throb came from his headache, and decided to just relax his mind and hopefully get to sleep. He began to think about the woman again. He remembered seeing one of her eyes; a large, brown one. Thinking about it brought a dull sense of recognition, but Ike wasn't paying any attention and let his mind's eye slide down her body. He passed over a shoulder, a lock of brown hair, a single breast clad in a yellowish shirt-skirt combo, a lovely curve where her ass was, and finally the creamy white skin of her leg. Once again, Ike was plagued by a feeling of recognition, sharper than before, but it didn't matter because Ike had already fallen asleep.

_Ike leaned down, his lips connecting with hers. Once again, their tongues caressed each other and Ike leaned down farther, his erection touching her leg through his pants. He felt her legs spread slightly, and she placed one hand under his shoulder, pressing up with a gentle pressure. Taking the hint, Ike rolled over, his calves falling over the side of the bed, and allowed her on top. As she straddled his waist, her face was once again opposite the light, but Ike could see the silhouette of long, smooth hair flung over her shoulders. Her shaded arms moved down to the edges of her dress, and she pulled it up over her head, and Ike wished for what must have been the millionth time that night that there was more than a single candle to light up the room. As she leaned back down for a second to give him a quick kiss, Ike felt her smallish breasts brush against his chest, and a feeling of immense pleasure rippled through his body. The girl slid down his body, gracefully falling to her knees at the side of the bed, mere inches from where his highly erect penis stood. Her hands reached out and teasingly rubbed the tip of it through the cotton fabric, before finally bring one to top of his pants. Her fingers gripped them and pulled, dragging his pants down his legs and onto the floor. _

_Her right hand came back up and she wrapped her fingers around Ike's instrument. She began to steadily stroke it, all the while leaning her head closer and closer. As Ike felt her tongue give it a quick lick before slowly letting it slide into her mouth. Ike's hands clenched themselves around the sheets of his bed, his knuckles turning white. His breath became ragged as the girl's mouth slowly engulfed his manhood, her tongue swirling around. His back arched slightly as she began to move it and out, and he willed himself to last just a little longer, but just a few seconds later he reached his climax. His load spilled out of him onto her mouth and face, as well as the head of his instrument. She slowly began collected the semen, not greedily as Mia had done when they did it, but elegantly, like a noble lady licking juice off her fingers after eating a particularly juicy fruit._

_After she was finished cleaning herself off, she pulled herself back up Ike's body and they laid there for some time, her head resting on his chest, his arm around her, their legs intertwined. They were still, just enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies. Ike began to stroke her back and she gave a soft purr of delight. Pleased, Ike looked down at the girl who was in his arms. Her face was now illuminated by the candle, but her long and now messy hair obstructed his view. As if sensing his gaze, he saw her head slowly tilt upwards, her face slowly coming into view-_

Ike's stomach woke him up. As his eyes opened, an intense feeling of nausea overcame him, and he rolled over in bed, suddenly vomiting over the side onto the stone floor below. The vomit left a terrible taste in his mouth, and he nearly felt the need to lose what little remained of his pathetic breakfast, but he managed to control himself. Ike felt miserable. It wasn't the nausea or the headache. In fact, after he threw up, both of those had almost gone away, leaving him feeling much better physically than he had before he had fallen asleep. No, it was the incredible feeling of disappointment. He had been so close to seeing the identity of his dream lover, but she had slipped through his fingers yet again. He felt as if he _should_ know her, but, for whatever reason, nothing came to mind. He perused his dream, painstakingly analyzing every image of her he could remember, but he found nothing that could connect her to anyone he would possibly make love to. As his eyes mentally scanned her body, once again, that odd feeling that had clashed with the others he had been feeling when he first began thinking about her bared its fangs. This time, however, Ike's mind was clear enough to recognize it.

Guilt.

_Why?_, Ike asked himself. _Why am I feeling guilty?_ Confusion flowed through him like a poison. Ike couldn't think of any possible reason why he would feel guilty when thinking about having sex with the girl, since he never felt that way before. Again, Ike began to mentally interrogate himself. Was it because he wasn't married to the woman in his dreams? No, that didn't make any sense. He didn't know whether or not he was married to anyone, within his dreams, and besides, he hadn't felt guilty when he was with Mia. Well, he had felt a little guilty, since Mia hadn't been sober when they did it, but not nearly as guilty as this. Was it because she felt so young? Ike doubted it. He didn't see how age really meant anything in relationships, especially not when the younger one makes the first move. Besides, the age difference couldn't have been more than a few years. Was it because, was it because, was it because? Ike ended up feeling like he was playing 20 Questions with himself and gave up trying to find a reason behind his emotions.

The god-awful stench of the vomit beside his bed eventually roused him from his thoughts. He warily sat up in bed and swung his legs over the side, bracing himself in case dizziness happened to overcome him again. To his relief, he felt nothing. He stood up and, carefully avoiding the mess on the ground, walked over to the corner of the room where a bucket of water that Ike used for getting a drink during the night or washing his face in the morning sat. Inside a large wooden cupboard next to bucket was a mop. Ike carried both over to where the vomit was and began to steadily clean up the mess. As Ike cleaned, he caught his reflection within the bucket and almost cried out loud. He looked terrible. His skin had turned unnaturally pale, and large, purple bags under his eyes clashed with it. His hair was sleep tousled, and his eyes just looked shallow and unseeing. Ike shivered and got back into bed, figuring that he should probably sleep some more.

As Ike crawled back into bed, he began to think about the night before. He had pretty much decided that he was the victim of a particularly vengeful hangover, and was wondering what the hell had made him drink so much last night. He racked his memory for answers, and came up with nothing. Sighing, he closed his eyes again. Sleep came easier to him this time.

_Her body was on top of Ike's again, her legs straddling Ike's waist. She bent over, touching Ike's lips with her own. As they let their tongues invade each other's mouths, Ike brought his hand up to her chest, cupping one of her soft and warm breasts in his hand. She shifted position, allowing him better access, and they stayed like that for a while._

_But not for long. Soon after, Ike felt her lips draw away from his and he released her lovely breast from his grasp. She sat up on his waist, and Ike could see her silhouette throw her hair back over her shoulder before placing her hands on his chest. Ike, even with his limited sexual experience, could sense what was coming next. He felt the girl's legs spreading apart, her body coming closer to his. Ike readied himself, pushing his waist up to meet hers. His instrument touched her lower stomach, sliding down her body before in found purchase in between her legs. He bit his lip as she began push it into her. Her hips came down all the way down until they met his, her body completely burying Ike's penis. They both let out a gasp at the same time, and neither moved for a few moments, both relishing the pleasure they were feeling. Then she lifted her hips up again, hesitated for a moment, and brought them back down, allowing another gasp to escape her lips. She did it again, this time faster and surer of herself. Soon, she was pumping up and down, her body sliding along Ike's instrument. With each pump, she let out another gasp, and Ike only managed to keep himself from shouting out too by clenching his teeth. She pushed herself off Ike's chest so that she was sitting up on him, still moving up and down. Ike could see that vague shadows that were her breasts bouncing with her body. Faster and faster she went, giving her barely enough time to draw in breath before her lungs forced out another gasp of pleasure._

_Ike could feel his climax coming. Even more than when she was treating him with her mouth, he wanted to keep it at bay. He tensed every muscle in his body, trying to stop the flow, but it was too late. It spurted into her, but gravity forced most of it to spill out again all over Ike. But she kept going. Ike couldn't keep in the gasp this time as she pounded onto his sensitive penis. He tried to pull out, but she was in control, forcing him in and out, even though it was almost painful for Ike. Ike breath was ragged now and his body felt exhausted. But still, she kept on going._

_All of a sudden, she stopped. She let out a long, drawn-out gasp, and she feel down against his chest, Ike's instrument sliding out of her. They lay still as they both panted together, and Ike closed his eyes. After what could have been and eternity or just a few minutes, he felt the girl stir beside him. She got up from his side, and Ike could hear the soft noise of fabric brushing skin, but he didn't open his eyes. A minute later, the noises stopped, and Ike heard her walk back over to him. Her lips brushed his for the last time, and she brought her mouth down next to his ear._

_"Good night, Ike," she whispered, and Ike heard the door open and then close, leaving Ike alone in his room, but Ike hardly noticed. He had frozen upon hearing the voice. It couldn't be..._

_Suddenly, Ike's mind slipped away from his dream, entering the peaceful darkness of dreamless sleep._

Ike awoke sometime later, and immediately, his thoughts strayed to his dream. It was impossible. There was no way. Ike would never do that with her...

Mist. The name strayed into his mind, but he forcibly pushed it out again. Not even in his dreams. But try as he might, he couldn't keep her from entering his mind. It all fit. The long brown hair, the pale-blue eyes, her rather petite frame... Even what he saw and felt of her breasts matched what he imagined his sister's were like.

But what really brought Ike certainty was her voice. The voice in his dreams matched Mist's exactly. Every single little nuance in the way his sister said 'Good night, Ike' to him every night life matched how the mystery girl said it to him exactly. From the way the girl's voice went from a lower pitch to a higher pitch as if she was asking a question, to the way she slightly extended the word 'night', it was exactly the same. Mist, his little sister, had been his lover in his dream.

He had always thought Mist was beautiful, but never in sexual way. _Well, not never_, Ike admitted to himself. Sometimes he caught himself staring at her breasts, or wondering what she looked like without clothes on, but that wasn't often. Even so, he had always thought her the prettiest of all the girls in the Greil Mercenaries. While both Mia and Titania had better figures, Mist radiated a sense of innocent sexuality that made her that much more appealing. Mia was also very pretty, but she didn't feel very innocent at all. Titania was pretty and had great breasts, but she didn't give off a single scrap of sexuality. She reminded Ike of an elderly spinster.

There was a soft knock on the door. Ike rolled over, wondering who it could be. As far as he knew, everyone had gone out training. "Come in," he said, sitting up. The door opened, and Ike's heart nearly stopped.

Mist entered the room, carrying a tray of food. She wasn't wearing the red-orange vest she normally wore, or her leather gloves or boots. She was clad only in her short, pale-yellow dress. The dress was cut low both at the chest, giving Ike a fantastic view of her breasts without actually showing anything, and her legs. She smiled at him, set the tray down on his nightstand, and sat down on the edge of his bed. "Oscar told me you weren't feeling very well this morning, and he asked me check in on you at some point." She held up her right arm, and Ike saw it was bandaged. "I tripped down the stairs this morning and hurt my arm, so Titania told me to stay at home today. How are you feeling?"

Ike couldn't speak. Seeing his sister in person so soon after seeing her fuck him in his dreams was just too much for him. It didn't help that her dress was so short on her when she was sitting down and he could see the faint bumps on her breasts where her nipples were.

Mist frowned. "Are you okay, Ike? Do you still feel sick?" She leaned towards him, placing her hand on his forehead. "Hmm... You don't have a fever." She leaned in closer "What's wrong?"

Her breasts were so tantalizingly close to his face now, gravity almost pulling them out from their prison. His heart was going so fast he thought he was going to faint, but he managed to say, "I... I'm fine..."

"You are? That's good." She leaned out again, and her breasts settled back into her dress. She looked at him and frowned again. "Ike, your face looks very flushed. Are you sure you are all right?"

Ike hadn't realized he was blushing. "Yeah, I'm fine..."

"Hmm... I think you should get some more rest." She gently pushed him down back into his bed. "Here, I'll close your curtains for you." She leaned over him, pulling shut the curtains that let in the afternoon sun.

It happened so quickly. One moment, she was leaning over him closing his curtains, her breasts hanging almost directly above Ike's face, the next moment, Ike was scooping one of them right out of her dress with one hand, the other hand pulling Mist down on top of him. He sat up in bed, pulling down his pants as he did so, and pushed her roughly on her back. "Ike!" she managed to gasp before Ike tore her dress right off her body, leaving it in all its naked glory. He took it all in for a moment, the soft and lovely curves of her breasts, the sweet smell of her perfume, the creamy color of her skin, before, gripping one of her breasts with one hand and lifting her leg up with the other, he pushed himself into her. She gasped, a much wilder gasp than the one the dream Mist had given, a shocked expression in her face. A real feeling of pleasure soared through Ike's body, something he hadn't felt in so long. Gritting his teeth into a smile, he pushed himself into her again, and again, and again. She struggled, trying to force Ike out of her, but he was too strong. She began to bleed, but Ike continued to pound into her, allowing her blood to cover him. Then, they both reached their climax, and, as Ike's breathing slowed, he noticed a faint noise. It was Mist. She was crying. Then the full impact of what Ike had done hit him.

He had raped Mist.

He had raped his sister.


	3. Frustration

**Hello, and welcome back! I'm sorry it took so long for me to update again, it just takes me forever to write. =P I'm also sorry for the length. Some people were complaining about how short Chapter 1 was, so I compensated by making Chapter 2 four times longer and Chapter 3 almost six times longer. So, if this fanfic is too long, I'm sorry. Anyway, enjoy! =D**

**Frustration**

* * *

"Marcia! Your shift's over, you can go home."

Marcia eyes snapped open and she looked around in confusion until she saw the watch captain standing a bit farther down the wall. "Forgive me, sir, what did you say?"

Even in the darkness, Marcia could tell he was glaring at her. Marcia had been leaning against a wall trying to catch some sleep, and she prayed to Ashera the captain hadn't noticed. The watch captain was an unpleasant man who loved to celebrate his freedom from doing watch duty himself by drinking and sleeping in the barracks, only coming out midnight to tell the current shift to get the hell off his wall. Marcia also heard rumors that he was once court marshaled for sexual assault, but the charges were dropped. "Were you sleeping?" he asked hypocritically.

"No," Marcia lied quickly. "I- I was just thinking. I heard a noise earlier and I was wondering what it could be." The captain was known for punishing those who slept on duty severely.

"Really," he asked suspiciously. "What kind of noise?"

Marcia just managed to keep herself from groaning. She had forgotten that the captain was also the kind of officer who sent out guards searching the countryside for hours on end whenever someone heard a suspicious noise. "I dunno... I was sort of a thumping noise I guess... It's not important."

"Than why was wondering what made that noise so enthralling that you didn't notice me? I could have been an assassin planning on killing our lovely Queen Elincia."

"Crackers!" she whispered to herself. She hated this man. In fact, everyone hated him. She knew he was a pretty good fighter and that he was also very clever. However, he didn't use his intelligence for anything productive, mainly just for ridiculing people and determining who was cheating on whom. Sighing, she decided it wasn't worth trying to lie to him. "All right, all right, I was sleeping..." she muttered, looking away.

"I know. I was saying your name for about a minute before you woke up."

_Ouch_, though Marcia. Not only did he know she was sleeping on duty, but he degraded herself even more in her superior's eyes by lying blatantly about it.

Marcia could hear the metallic clang of metal boots knocking on stone as the watch captain strode towards her. He was close enough now for Marcia to smell the alcohol on his breath. "You do know," he whispered, looking down at her. "That the penalty for sleeping on duty is losing the current week's pay. Don'cha?"

"Yes," Marcia admitted quietly. _Hypocritical bastard_.

"However..." He leaned in even closer. "I might be able to forgive you just this once if you do something for me in return..." He brought a gloved finger to her chin, lifting it until Marcia's lovely blue eyes was staring straight into the taller man's earth-brown eyes. "What d'ya say?"

"I think," Marcia said even more quietly than before. "I'll take the week's pay." She pushed him roughly enough to get the surprised drunk captain out of her way, but gently enough to avoid getting called in for assaulting an officer. She strode purposefully towards the barracks, her own soft, leather boots making much less noise than the captain's metal ones. _The nerve of that man! _she ranted to herself. How dare he assume that she would sleep with him to avoid a measly punishment that she deserved anyway! She hated this whole situation. After Ludveck's rebellion, the Crimean army had been strapped for soldiers, so the remaining army had to take on extra responsibilities. They even had pegasus knights patrolling the wall's for Ashera's sake! She hadn't signed onto the Crimean Royal Knights so she could spend the rest of her life on a damn wall.

In her fury, she practically kicked down the barracks door, and pounded down a hallway, passing the captain's office and entering the female quarters. She shoved her chest plate, gauntlets, cape, belt, and spear into the small locker designated to her before stomping to the other end of the room where the washroom door was. She jerked open the door and walked blindly into the washroom, not noticing the young, black-haired woman until their heads knocked together.

"Ouch!" they both cried out, falling to the wet stone floor. The room was hot and humid, and the single large mirror on the wall was misted over. However, the floor was cold and damp, but it offered little relief from the washroom's warmth. Marcia rubbed her forehead with her hand and looked up. The ever lovely and resplendent Astrid was kneeling on the floor a few feet away, looking even better wearing nothing but a towel that at one point had probably covered her chest but now had fallen down, sprawled across her legs. Her light, creamy skin was shiny and wet from the shower she obviously just took, and her normally straight hair was damp and curling slightly, sticking to her skin. Marcia's eyes traveled down Astrid's body to her chest. Her relatively small breasts, which were still larger than Marcia's, were perfect and smooth. Small droplets of water stood on her body like tiny crystals and reflected all the yellows and oranges and reds coming from the covered torches which lined the wall. Marcia was straight and was still dying to have Astrid in her arms, to taste her perfect skin, to make love to her as only two women can. And it infuriated her to no end.

Swallowing the sudden anger that had built up inside of her, Marcia scrambled to her feet and rushed over to Astrid. She held out her hand to her, asking, "Are you okay, Astrid?"

"I'm fine..." Astrid replied softly, her voice as soft and beautiful as an angel's. Her long black hair fell over her face, and she pushed it away as she gripped Marcia's hand and got to her feet, revealing her stunning red eyes. They were just the icing on the cake. The jealous fury Marcia had managed to remove just moments before resurfaced again, full force. Marcia's teeth were gritted and her left hand began to shake.

"Marcia? Is something wrong?" Astrid's stunningly unique eyes were tinged with worry.

It took Marcia a few seconds to realize that her right hand, the one she had used to help Astrid to her feet, was clamped around Astrid's hand in an iron grip. "No, nothing..." she lied, releasing her hand immediately. "I'm sorry," she added when she saw Astrid rubbing her hand.

"It's all right..." Astrid responded, looking back towards Marcia. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes," Marcia answered, unable to keep a slight edge out of her voice. It wasn't fair. Being around Astrid just made her feel... inadequate. Whenever they were together, any guys who decided to approach them hit on her first, ignoring Marcia until Astrid told him she had a boyfriend. And considering they spent a lot of free time together since she was dating Marcia's brother, Marcia found it exceedingly more difficult to pick up guys than she did when she was alone, even if it was just for the night. Marcia just never felt beautiful around Astrid.

Seeing the disbelieving and slightly hurt look in Astrid's aggravatingly lovely face, Marcia decided it wasn't worth upsetting her over her own stupid jealousy, and decided to almost tell the truth. "Well... not really. You see, that _bastard_ watch captain decided to make a move on me tonight by almost blackmailing me. The stupid dick caught me sleeping on duty, and told me he'd drop the punishment if I slept with him, like I was some sort of whore." It wasn't a complete lie, since the incident was still angering Marcia, but it wasn't telling the whole truth either.

Astrid eyes were filled with sympathy as she rewrapped her towel back around her chest. "Oh, that's horrible! That stupid man should be locked up! He should be more like Makalov; he would never to a thing like that." Marcia sometimes wondered whether Astrid had ever even met her boyfriend. "Well, I hope he doesn't give you a hard time, Marcia. I'll see you later." Astrid opened the door back to the locker room and softly clicked it back shut.

Marcia sighed and began pulling off her clothes in front of the mirror. Completely naked, she swiveled around as if on a pivot, inspecting her body in the mirror. Slowly her confidence began trickling back. _What kind of crazy man would reject this?_ she thought to herself. _Only guys who aren't into girls and perverts who only go for big tits._ Her petite form was well complemented by her shoulder-length pink hair and blue eyes, and her skin was just as smooth as Astrid's. She didn't have as noticeable curves, but they were still in the 'cute and endearing' category. Her legs weren't as thin as Astrid's, but they still fell into the same category as her breasts and ass. All in all, in Marcia's opinion, her entire body was 'cute and endearing'.

Smiling, Marcia turned away from the mirror. Astrid may be gorgeous, but Marcia sure as hell wasn't far behind. She stepped under a shower head and was about to turn on the water when a sudden noise came through the door. Looking back, Marcia perked her ears. The sounds continued, deeper now than before, and Marcia recognized them as voices. "Who the hell could that be...?" Marcia muttered to herself. She and Astrid were the only females changing shifts at this time tonight. As Marcia approached the door, the voices became more distinct, and Marcia realized that there were both male and female voices. _The guard captain!_ Marcia thought furiously. He was the one of the only ones perverted enough to enter the female quarters unannounced, and the only one protected by rank. Slowly, Marcia turned the knob on the heavy wooden door, being careful to not make any squeaks. Opening the door a crack, Marcia kneeled to the floor and peered through. The sight helped change her life forever.

Astrid was facing the door, her eyes closed and her mouth opened slightly. Her unlucky towel had fallen to the floor once again, and, in its place, two strong hands were cupping her breasts, slowly rotating them. The hands belonged to a relatively tall man with pink hair. Makalov. Astrid face tilted upward and to the side, coming close to Makalov's, her eyes opening slightly. "Makalov..." she breathed, and their lips connected, their tongues flowing between them. Marcia couldn't look away. "Makalov..." Astrid whispered again, their faces coming apart slightly. "Makalov, I-I need to get t-to work. The captain wi-will coming looking soon..."

Makalov relinquished her grip on her a bit, but didn't let go. "Don't worry, baby, I'll protect you from that shun of a bitch..." Their tongues met again, and they kissed for another few moments before Astrid pulled away again. Gently sliding out of Makalov's grip, she said, "I'm sorry, Makalov, but I really have to go now..." She opened her locker and pulled out her armor and clothing.

Makalov's eyes were filled with disappointment as he watched Astrid dress herself. "I-I'll wait for you here, Astrid," Makalov promised, and Marcia could hear a slight slur in his voice that probably came from alcohol. "I've alwaysh wanted to do it in public..."

Astrid's eyes looked up from the armor piece she was strapping on, her cheeks red. "Makalov, it's midnight and my shift is six hours long, and besides I don't think this is the best place to... you know..."

Makalov waved away her protests, replying, "Don't worry about it, I'll just sleep in one of thish bench here and beshides, how many fighter chicks are there besides you and Marshia?" Astrid mumbled something incoherent and Makalov continued, "And if the shun of a bitch comesh around, I'll kick his ash. You'd like that, wouldn'tcha'?"

Astrid gave a reluctant smile as she finished putting on her armor and said, "Okay, okay... If you're here in six hours and were alone we'll... do it... here..." Astrid gave a small shudder.

Makalov gave a winning smile. "Exshelent! I'll be right here on this bench the whole time, so you better prepare yourshelf..." Astrid gave a final smile before leaving the room, and Makalov laid down on the bench and pulled a beer out of his coat.

Marcia closed the door silently, almost failing to do so because of how much her hands were shaking. That _whore_! _Who they hell does she think she is?_ Marcia thought furiously to herself. _Letting Makalov all over her like that in public... Then telling him that they would do it later, here, in this very locker room! _Marcia punched a stone wall, but, rather than helping relieve her anger, it only made her hand hurt. Teeth gritted in pain, she slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor of the washroom, nursing her hand. A fresh wave of jealousy swept over, but this time it carried sadness with it rather than anger. Why didn't she have a boyfriend like that? Why didn't she have someone who would sneak up behind her as though he was a stalker, grab her breasts roughly, then kiss her passionately? The most she had ever had was the first two, and that time the person _had_ been a stalker. Needless to say, the man lost something very dear to him the day he tried to rape Marcia. _Whoopee!_ Marcia thought bitterly to herself. _Astrid gets a boyfriend who loves her almost as much as she loves him and I get a fifty-year-old stalker trying to rape me._

Enough was enough. Marcia got to her feet, forgetting the pain in her hand. She would show Astrid! She would prove that she could be just as attractive to men as she could be! _And I will start_, Marcia thought to herself as she strode over to a small counter which held cosmetics, _with your boyfriend_. Her jealousy of Astrid so consumed her that she never once remembered that Makalov was her brother. He was just a target.

Marcia's hand strayed along a row of different perfumes, finally coming to rest on one that was vanilla-scented. It would have to be enough to cover the scent of sweat from being in armor for six hours, since she couldn't risk running a bath and alerting Makalov to her presence too early. After applying the perfume, she expertly brushed her hair and put on make-up. Next, she put on her maroon bra and panties with a thin white shirt on top. There was no sense in making things _too_ easy for Makalov. After all, it wouldn't be much of a conquest if she just strode over to him completely naked, pulled down his pants, and forced him into her. She _had_ to seduce him. Also, it wouldn't do much good making him suspicious if he wasn't as drunk as she thought he was. When she was finally finished dressing, she looked at herself in the dirty old and mirror and smiled. Just the look she was going for. She was almost naked, but not really in a slutty way, more in a you-caught-me-while-I-was-getting-dressed kind of way, the perfect type for looking sexy and revealing but not like a call girl.

Marcia crept back over to the door and reopened it slightly. Peering through the crack again, she could see Makalov still lying on the bench, his bottle on the floor next to him. Listening carefully, Marcia could tell by his breathing that he was asleep. _Perfect_, she smiled to herself. She quietly stepped into the room, leaving the door to the washroom open behind her. Composing her face into a look of anger and mild disgust, she said loudly, not quite shouting, "Makalov! What the _hell_ are you doing in here!?"

Makalov bolted upright with a small yell, his eyes wide-open, scanning the room. His eyes finally found Marcia and the muscles in his face relaxed. "Oh, it'sh only you, Marshia. I though for a moment there it might be someone I should be scared of..." And with that, he laid back down.

That hadn't gone quite as Marcia planned, but she pressed on. "Makalov!" she said harshly, stomping over the bench. "Get up! You can't go sleeping in the women's locker room, you idiot. If anyone finds you, you'll be fired, again, and probably face charges,_ a_gain."

"I'm waitin' for Ashtrid," he mumbled, ignoring Marcia's demands.

"At least sit up and be alert so you can hide if anyone comes!" Marcia replied, exasperated. _Honestly_..."

"'K, 'k, fine, I'll sit up..." he grumbled forcing himself to sit straight up. "You sound like our mother," he added, taking a long draught from the bottle he picked off the floor.

Marcia heart started racing. _It's now or never_, Marcia thought desperately. _I can either sit down and fuck him right now or never work up the courage to beat Astrid again. Now or never. _She sat down. This would be the hard part, convincing Makalov that she wanted to do him. He may have been drunk, but he wasn't a _complete_ idiot. If she came on too strong he would wonder why. It had to be subtle. Suddenly, it came to her. She flopped down next to Makalov on the bench, sighing as she did so. She had to do this right. "Let me have some of that," she said sullenly, gesturing at the alcohol in Makalov's hand.

"Sure, shish," Makalov answered, handing the bottle over to her, pulling another one out of his coat. Not for the first time, Marcia wondered how deep his alcoholism went.

Marcia opted not to drink any of hers, fearing it would make her less subtle when she needed to be. Instead, she held the bottle to her lip, but didn't swallow any of the liquid in her mouth, just letting it flow back into the bottle as she let her hand down. Not a foolproof method she knew, just hopefully good enough to fool her drunken brother. After she finished fake-drinking, she dredged out all of her inner rage and grief and forced herself to cry, a technique she learned and perfected as a defense mechanism against her parents when they were angry with her. It also helped that she was pinching the leg opposite Makalov as hard as she could. Next, she let a small sob while simultaneously pretending to wipe her eyes, something else she perfected along with the forced crying, and an action that guaranteed Makalov's attention.

"Marshia," Makalov gasped, shock etched on his rather goofy features. "What'sh wrong?"

Marcia gave another sob and stuttered, "It-It's nothing. I-I'm fine, I sw-swear..." It was such an obvious lie that not even a drunken Makalov could miss.

"I'm sherioush, Marshia," he said seriously. "Tell me what'sh wrong."

Marcia was dying to let out a laugh. _I'm sherioush, Marshia_. The idea of a drunken Makalov waiting in the women's locker room for his girlfriend to come back in six hours being _sherioush_ was just hilarious to her. However, she realized that laughing out loud be breaking character, and instead turned them into sobs. It was time to take the lie further. "It-It's the watch ca-captain. During my guard d-duty, he came at me while I-I was on the wall. He _r-raped_ me, Makalov. He p-pulled my clothes off an-and plunged his dirty... _thing_ into me. He raped me..."

Makalov stood up immediately, striding, rather tipsily, to a sword rack. Within a few seconds he had chosen a fine steel one and was already running towards the door. "Makalov!" Marcia shouted, genuinely alarmed. As much as she hated the captain, he didn't deserve to die because of a lie she told. "Makalov, wait!" She ran over to him and lunged at his arm, hanging onto it pulling him away from the door. "Please, Makalov, don't leave me alone again... And don't throw your life away like that..."

Makalov sighed, and the sword fell to the ground with a clatter. Marcia guided him back to the bench and sat him back down, taking her seat next to him again. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Makalov sipping his beer while Marcia pretended to drink hers. After a few minutes, Marcia whispered, "Makalov... I just want to thank you for being angry on my behalf. It... it meant a lot to me."

Makalov turned his face away from the glass bottle towards Marcia, giving her his signature goofy smile. "It wuz nothin', Marshia. You are my shishter after all."

Marcia took another long, fake draught of beer, purposely spilling some onto her white shirt, allowing her maroon-colored bra to peek through the thin fabric. "Makalov," she said quietly, leaning on him. "I know I can sometimes be rather... abrasive... with you, but I want you to know... I love you. I love so much..." Makalov remained silent. "But... the love isn't just familial... Makalov, I want to purge that bastard from my body. I want someone to hold me and love me like they should, not just do me. I want..." Marcia looked into his eyes. "I want to make love with you, Makalov."

Makalov just stared at her for a moment, his mouth hanging slightly open in his surprise. Even in his now severely drunken state, he still understood the consequences of taking his sister. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he managed to stammer, "But- But Marshia, w-were..."

Now came the tricky part. "I don't care!" Marcia shouted, grabbing Makalov's shoulders and pulling her face up to his, forcing her eyes to water again. "I don't care. You don't know how long I've had to hold this in. Makalov, for Ashera's sake, grant me this one wish. Please, Makalov. I want to fuck you."

Makalov looked into her eyes for a few seconds and said, "All right, why not?" before grabbing Marcia around the waist and pulling her into a kiss. Marcia was too shocked to react at first, since she hadn't expected her brother to give in so easily, but soon she began to participate, her tongue sliding around his, slipping into his mouth.

Makalov gently pushed her down so she was lying on her back on the rather wide bench with him on top. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled herself closer, pressing her soft lips into Makalov's, feeling the warm mass that was his tongue invade deeper and deeper into her mouth, and allowing her own to do the same. Makalov's left hand wrapped around her back, holding her, while his right hand caressed her side, brushing the coarse fabric of her shirt. His hand slid up and down, making a soft brushing sound as it passed over the cloth. His hand finally slid all the way down to her curve, grabbed the hem of her shirt, and pulled it up her torso. Marcia's smooth and creamy skin slowly came into view, complete perfection until the sight was marred by the maroon fabric of her bra. Makalov's hand released the shirt and fell down to her right breast, gently holding it, and Marcia could feel her face redden. Slowly, Makalov began to manipulate it, rotating it on a pivot, exerting his control over it. Marcia's face reddened even more, and her body was almost completely overcome with desire. As she felt Makalov's palm rubbing the nipple of her right breast through the tough fabric of her bra, she began to realize he was an expert at this. He was moving slowly enough to build up the sexual tension, to make every hint of pleasure feel that much better, but not so slowly that she became bored. It seemed Astrid taught him well.

Makalov's thumb found purchase with the fringe of the cup of her bra, and slowly pulled down. Marcia could feel her breasts come free from their prison, could feel them bounce slightly as the Makalov completely pulled the bra down below them, could feel the cool air of the locker room bite at her nipples, hardening them. Finally, she could feel the soft pressure of her brother's fingers on the right breast as they squeezed, testing it. Marcia's face felt like a beacon, but she managed to keep from pulling away from their kiss. His fingers played with her nipple, rubbing it, flicking it, twisting it, until Marcia couldn't take it anymore. Her head pulled back away from Makalov's and she let out a small gasp, her eyes clamped shut. It seemed that was the opportunity he had been waiting for. He gently placed back down on the bench, giving her one final kiss as he did so. He pushed her shirt almost up to her chin, allowing her to pull it off the rest of the way and throw it to the ground. Then, his hands slid under her to the center of her back to her bra clasp. His hands fumbled slightly from all the alcohol he had consumed, but with a relatively small amount of effort her bra was lying with her shirt on the floor. Marcia opened her eyes and studied the scene. Makalov was kneeling on the bench with one knee in between her legs, while the other foot was planted on the ground next to it. He had taken his own shirt off now, and Marcia could see the powerful muscles that made up his body bulging. She could feel his eyes scanning her body, taking in every aspect of it. She looked away, suddenly embarrassed about her relative lack of curves. Marcia wasn't as confident as she was before hitting on Makalov. What if she didn't measure up to the expectations Astrid left behind? Although the rational part of her reasoned that there was no way in hell Makalov would stop now just because she wasn't as pretty as Astrid, the fear was still there. Getting scorned while on the verge of success was infinitely worse than getting scorned before anything even happened.

She needn't have worried. Makalov leaned in closer, his hands starting down at the waist and sliding up towards her chest. She could feel herself shudder as they both closed around their own separate breast, each hand working hard to please her. His hands were rougher than before, making the pleasure that much better, but she also felt occasional twinges of pain as her nipples were worked past their maximum. Her back arched slightly and her teeth clenched together. Even when he was drunk he knew what he was doing. Marcia saw him lean in closer and put his lips up to her breast, slowly caressing it with his tongue before finally arriving at her nipple. Marcia could feel it becoming enclosed in his warm, damp mouth as he began to suck it. Marcia let out a much more audible gasp than she had before and her breath began to shudder. As Makalov tongue and fingers worked on her right breast, his left hand slowly released her other one and moved down her body to her waist. As his fingers fell farther and farther down her torso, Marcia realized what he was planning and braced herself. His fingers slid underneath her panties and right in between her legs. Each breath of Marcia's became a gasp as his fingers began to penetrate in and out, slowly at first, but with increasing speed. As Makalov's fingers moved in tandem with his tongue, Marcia's back arched from pleasure, thrusting her hips into the air. She could feel her climax coming and tried to stop it, to keep the wondrous sensations coming forever, but with minimal success. After what seemed like no time at all, Marcia's back arched, her breathing almost completely stopped, her face a deep red, and a huge wave of pleasure rolled over her.

Makalov removed himself from her body, sitting up again on the bench, his hands searching the floor for his alcohol. Marcia got up on one elbow, breathing deeply. Noticing her, Makalov said, "I'll give you a few minutes to cool down," and took a huge draught from the translucent glass bottle. Marcia laid back down with relief. The relief came from two conflicting sources. The first part was relieved because she needed a rest before she could do anything else; the second part was relieved because Makalov wasn't through with her yet.

Makalov waited a few minutes before making his move. He leaned back over her, whispering, "It'sh mah turn now," his voice slurring even more now. His hand grabbed Marcia's panties and pulled them down the length of her legs, letting her kick them to the floor. He then pulled off his own pants, and now they were both completely naked. Marcia eyed his groin area as Makalov did the same to hers, and she could see his large penis was completely erect and hard as a rock. Marcia was overcome by the sudden desire to just get down and fuck him. She could tell Makalov was of the same opinion of her. "Do it now," she said urgently. She felt like she was going to explode. "Please do it..."

"No problem," Makalov replied, and leaned right back over her. One hand supported him as his other guided his erection in between her legs. She felt its head touch her gently, before slowly starting to push into her. A feeling of bliss came over her. _This_, she thought, _is true animal instinct_. Makalov pushed himself all the way in with careful deliberation, not wanting to hurt her, until his pelvis was pressed up against hers. Then, more quickly, he pulled back, stopping just before he fell out. At that point, the process began to repeat. He was unrelenting in his assault, never missing a beat or making a mistake. With each of Makalov's thrusts, Marcia felt an explosion of pleasure rack her body and her lips curled into an expression of delight, her cheeks turned a bright red, and her breasts jiggled slightly. _What would you say if you saw this, Astrid? _Marcia thought to herself, and her smile widened. _Your precious boyfriend is fucking _me_ now. I have proved both to you and myself that I can seduce men just as well as you can... _Just as this thought crossed her mind, she climaxed for the second time that night, and a few moments after that, Astrid's boyfriend climaxed inside of Marcia.

Makalov pulled out of her and sat up, breathing deeply. Marcia closed her eyes and listened to him breathe, listened to the sounds of her forbidden lover. She did it. She finally did it. Never again would she allow herself to become jealous of Astrid again. Another smile blessed her soft, thin lips. Suddenly, she became aware of an ache in her back that probably came from partaking in strenuous activity atop a hard wooden bench. She groaned softly and decided it was time to go home. She was tired, and she had already proven her point. Brushing her pink hair out of her eyes, she began to sit up and get to her feet, but a strong hand took hold of hers. "Where ya' going'?" Makalov slurred, and from two feet away Marcia could smell the alcohol. "I'm not dun yet."

Marcia tried to pull free but his hand was too strong. "Makalov, I really should go now. I really have to get some sleep tonight or I'll fall asleep on duty again."

Makalov pulled her back down to the bench. "C'mon, Marshia, one more time." He firmly laid her back down on the bench and took his position. "An' don't worry; I'll do all the work."

Marcia sighed and decided to give in to the inevitable. She was tired, but she had really enjoyed having Makalov inside her the first time, and she saw no reason that it would be any worse now. "Okay," she said, readying herself.

"Atta girl," Makalov replied, giving him one of his goofy grins. He grabbed both her legs and pushed them up into the air, moving right up next her. She felt his rock hard erection touch her in between her legs, but instead of going inside her, it moved down her groin from the front to the back. Marcia realized right before the fact what he was planning, but, at that point, there wasn't much she could do about. Makalov's instrument slid slowly into her ass. Marcia breathing stopped, her eyes wide open. There was pleasure all right, she could feel it, but there was pain, too. Much more pain than there had been the first time. Marcia gritted her teeth together, trying her best not to shout out. What was he doing? Why didn't at least ask her before penetrating her somewhere she had never felt anyone touch before in her life? Makalov began to push and pull in and out of her ass, mimicking what he did earlier. The pleasure increased, and soon Marcia was able to forget about the pain. _I wonder if he does this with Astrid_, she thought, bringing a smug smile to her face. _Even if he has, he's gone as far with me in one night than he was with you in years. _Makalov was careful and considerate while penetrating her, trying his best to please her, and himself, without causing her too much pain. _He's gotten a lot nicer than he used to be_, Marcia thought. She remembered when they were children in Begnion, and Makalov would always be so rude to her.

"Mommy, mommy!" Marcia had cried, tears streaming down her face. "Makalov pushed me down and I got mud all over my new dress!"

"Makalov!" her mother shouted, and Makalov mumbled an apology to his sister. After their mother left, Makalov picked a long. straight stick off the ground and began to swing it around like a sword. "En guarde!" he cried, striking Marcia in the chest with it.

"Ouch! Stop that, you big meanie!" Marcia turned and ran, but her older brother was faster. He continued laughing and jabbing her with the stick. Its hard, pointy tip struck her back, her shoulder, her arm, her back again, her butt... but it wasn't hard and pointy anymore. It was soft and fleshy and it was insider her and she looked around and her ten-year-old brother was naked and she was naked and the mean older brother was screwing her and he wasn't ten years old anymore her was and adult and she was an adult and she had convinced him into cheating on his girlfriend who had never done anything wrong with his own sister...

Marcia's eyes shot open and she saw what was truly happening for the first time. Marcia, filled with anger and spite and jealousy, had seduced her drunken _brother_ into having an affair with her. Her brother, the same brother she had grown up with, who had come from the same mother, who had constantly teased her and tortured her and gotten in trouble, was currently occupied slamming his penis as hard as he could into her ass. Tears came to her eyes. What had she done? What had she proven? That she could seduce a half-conscious man into having sex with her? That she could and would betray her friend's trust out of jealousy? That she could be just as much a whore as the watch captain had assumed she was?

A quarter of an hour later, Marcia was leaving the barracks fully dressed, no expression on her face. She was walking rather gingerly, a fact two women who were enjoying a nighttime stroll together noticed. _That pink-haired pegasus knight was messing around with someone in the barracks!_ they whispered, both to themselves and to their other friends, who continued this fun little game of whisper-down-the-lane. Meanwhile, Astrid came back from her shift a few hours later and found Makalov drunk, naked, and fast asleep on one of the benches. She became even more suspicious when she woke him up and he said he wasn't in the mood to have sex anymore. Then, a few days later, she heard the rumors that Marcia had been fucking someone in the barracks a few nights before. A part of her mind put the two tid-bits of information together, but the concept that presented was too shocking for her to really believe it. As for Marcia, she just wanted to forget the whole mess. She was pretty sure Makalov had been too drunk to remember anything that happened that night, so she was safe there. And she was sure no one had witnessed their night together. All in all, she managed to put the matter behind her.

Imagine her surprise when she found out she was pregnant.


	4. Infatuation

**Sorry about the long wait, but it's up now, and exactly 1 day after the anniversary of this collection of fanfics. A whole year, and I've only managed to write four chapters...**

**Anyway, here it is. W****hen you're done reading, I would like for you to go to my profile page, where there is a poll asking which one of these chapters is your favorite. I would like to know, out of curiousity. Also, a review would be nice.**

**Hope you enjoy it.**

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**Infatuation**

It was sunset, and the forest was alive with the sounds of birds and animals. Sunlight filtered through the trees, creating beautiful, alternating streaks of glowing orange of light and pitch black of shadow. A soft wind caressed the trees, whispering songs of love to the wilderness.

That same wind blew Reyson's long, blonde hair back behind him and ruffled the wings he had so neatly folded against his back. Reyson stopped walking and breathed in the scents the wind had carried to him. There is nothing like taking a walk when the sun is going down. He strolled down the forest path, losing himself in the beauty of nature. He had never been in this part of the forest before at sunset, and he felt the thrill of discovery take him.

Reyson felt his feet begin the ache and decided to take a breather. He positioned himself on a rock still warmed by the summer sun, leaning against a huge oak tree. He always took these after-dinner walks of his on foot, rather than by air. He felt more a part of the wonders that surrounded him if he walked, since he could actually feel the dirt under his soft leather boots and hear the twigs crack beneath him. Reyson leaned back against the tree and sighed, taking in more of the noises. Nearby, he could hear the rush of a waterfall and the murmuring of a small creek, his favorite sound in the world. Things were all right in the world.

Then, a new sound found Reyson's ears, drifting over the trees from the creek. It was a beautiful melody that Reyson had never heard before, but knew by heart. It was the heron love galdr. Reyson jumped to his feet, the pain forgotten. He could feel a change come over him. He could feel a desire, a desire for something which he had never really sought in many years of life - sex. He became hard and erect, the rather weak muscles in his body grew more toned, his mind fixed solely on the source of his desire. The beautiful female voice wrapped around his body and drew him closer. Reyson crept closer to the origin of the song, the crashing of the waterfall becoming louder and louder and the voice clearer and clearer. Finally, Reyson pushed aside a branch in front of his eyes and stopped dead in his tracks.

It was Leanne. She stood next to the waterfall, barely twenty feet from Reyson, completely naked, her back to him. Her damp wings were spread out wide, flapping the air gently to dry more quickly. Her manicured hands cupped together underneath the waterfall that was about twice her height, draining the water out onto her lovely, feminine body. Reyson quickly jumped behind some foliage, but couldn't help peering through the leaves at the beauty before him.

Reyson had never noticed how stunning and beautiful his sister was before. He had known that she was one of the most sought after women among any of the Laguz tribes, but he had never just stopped to look at her. But now, as she rotated under the gentle flow of the waterfall, Reyson took in every detail. Her long, blonde hair, which she had recently cut short, so it hung to her waist rather than her feet, was sleek and shiny from the water, glinting in the dying sunlight. Her vivid blue-green eyes sparkled with life and her full, rich lips were curled into a smile as she sang her love song. Her body was just the right size; not too fat, not to thin. Her breasts were lovely, perky half-globes that rolled deliciously in Leanne's hands as she massaged water onto them. Reyson could hardly stand himself when he saw how hard and erect her nipples were from the cold water. Her legs were long and creamy, and she had no visible tan-line anywhere on her body. She was perfect.

Reyson couldn't stop watching. His body was filled to the brim with sexual hunger, and he had barely enough self-control to keep himself from flinging off his clothes and joining Leanne under the waterfall. Even so, he hardly noticed when his hand drifted down into his robe, down to his crotch area. A small part of his mind knew that Leanne was definitely not singing to him, and was more likely expressing her love to Naesala, her husband of eight months, but the vast majority of his mind enjoyed believing the song was for him.

Without warning, Leanne got out from underneath the waterfall and sloshed through the knee-deep water to the rocks that bordered it. Reyson noticed rather belatedly that her clothes were lying barely six feet from his raging hard-on. Reyson tried to get himself to back away, to run before she noticed him, but failed. He could only sit helplessly as her gloriously nude form approached him, still singing the galdr of love. Luckily for Reyson, the sun was very low now, and he was hidden in shadow.

Leanne steeped out of the pool, tiny crystals of water dripping from her body. In the dying light, Reyson could see her pick a towel up from off the ground and dry herself, all the while still singing. When she finished, she let the towel fall to the ground as she picked a small razor blade. She ran it up and down her legs, making completely unnoticeable improvements to her body. Suddenly, she let out a final, trilling note in her song, and the Heron galdr of love ended.

Reyson blinked once, twice, and looked around. He could hardly remember what had happened since he had heard the song. As he glanced around, he glimpsed his sister through the leaves on the trees. He let out a faint gasp as his memories returned. He had been spying on his own sister... Reyson felt an intense feeling of self-disgust. He had to get out of there before she noticed him. Most of Reyson crept away silently into the growing darkness, but a small piece of his was left behind. His sister's galdr of love has stripped away a little portion of his mind, a little bit of inhibition that had kept him from trying to bang his sister for all those years. Though he didn't know it yet, she was fair game to him now.

~-~-~-~

The next day, Reyson still ashamed with himself for what he had done, but most of the self-disgust had left him. He found himself thinking constantly about what he had seen the night before, and spent practically the entire day erect. He did his best to avoid Leanne in the hallways of the palace, but it was impossible to stay away from her altogether. When he was forced to be in the same room as sister, he couldn't keep his eyes off her, the shadowy part of his mind that controlled sexual urges superimposing an image of Leanne's naked figure on top of her pure white robes. When they had to talk to each other, however, Reyson couldn't even bring himself to look at her.

When sunset approached that evening, Reyson found himself making excuses so he could be alone that night, so he could take another walk down the path of forbidden fruit. He just couldn't rid himself of the desire to see his sister's perfect body one more time.

But it wasn't just one more time. Reyson continued to visit his unknowing sister at that small pool deep in the Serenes Forest, miles from the palace they shared, almost every night for weeks. Some nights he would come home incredibly aroused, unable to keep himself from stripping naked and touching himself in bed. Other nights, he would come home ashamed and disgraced, and would swear never to so much as look at his sister again. He would be able to contain himself for maybe a few nights at most, before her sister's beauty and the feelings that love galdr brought him drew him back again.

His sister continued to sing as she bathed underneath the waterfall. It would always be the same galdr of love, but different portions of it. Like all other heron galdrs, the love galdr was immensely long. Since it would take days to sing the entire song all at once, it was split into many smaller pieces, all of which sounded different but still projected the same feelings. These pieces are what Leanne would sing every night.

Reyson's nightly forays into the forest all went off without a hitch, with one exception. Leanne had been singing an exceptionally long melody that night, and was already dressed before she finished. Like every night before, Reyson noticed that his attraction to her began to fade when she finished singing, but the loss of attraction had lessened each night he had seen her. Instead of leaving immediately, like he normally did, that night Reyson had been distracted by the way her hair and skin seemed to glow in the moonlight, and the way the wind blew up her tantalizingly low cut night clothes. When he finally managed to drag himself away, he continued staring at the beauty over his shoulder instead of paying attention to where he was stepping. He had moved about ten feet when he tripped over a fallen branch with a loud crash. Leanne whirled around, maybe fast enough to see Reyson scramble behind a bush under the full and bright moon, maybe not. Reyson had crouched behind a bush just out of her sight for what felt like forever, not daring to make a move, until her finally heard the soft beating of Leanne's wings as she flew away. Reyson followed suit a few minutes later, his heart still beating as fast as a racehorse.

Leanne gave no hint in the days that followed that she saw Reyson or anyone else spying on her by the waterfall. Reyson continued too see his sister naked every night.

He was hooked.

~-~-~-~

"Naesala, why?" Leanne's angelic voice, tinged with sadness, lifted above the courtyard where she stood, soaring up through a window into a walkway that looked over the courtyard, right into the ear of her brother.

"I'm sorry, love," replied Naesala's suave and charming voice. "But it's been almost a year since I left so I could live here with you. Kilvas needs a king, and I can't stay away forever. Besides, it will only be for a few weeks."

Reyson had been passing through the walkway when he heard the soft and gentle voice of his sister rise up from the courtyard, stopping him dead. This was not normal, not even in Reyson's advanced state of infatuation, but today there was something different about her tone. Usually Leanne spoke with a quiet politeness and deference, always the very image of a princess. But now... there was an edge to her voice that Reyson had never heard before, but it pleased him in ways he never new something as minor as inflection could. She only said two words, but the tone was so erotic and suggestive that he couldn't help but listen. Reyson realized then that he had never heard Leanne speak to Naesala alone before.

"A few weeks?" gasped Leanne. Reyson peered through the window beside him, careful not to let either of the lovers notice him.

Naesala pulled Leanne into his arms, and began to gently stroke her back. "I'm afraid so, love. Unless, of course, you come with me. But I know you don't want to leave the home you so recently re-won."

Leanne shook her head, and, though Reyson couldn't see her face, he knew her well enough to know that she was crying. She let out a choked sob.

"Shhh..." Naesala rested his chin on the top of her head and ran his fingers through her hair soothingly. "It won't be that bad. It's only a month, and it's not like I'm going to war or anything. The only fights I'm going to be getting into are verbal duels." Naesala's face contorted into an exaggerated grimace and Leanne giggled a little through her tears.

"Wh-When will you leave?" Leanne stuttered, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

"Next week," Naesala replied. "So we're going to have the remaining time we have left until then worthwhile.

Leanne looked up at him, a mischievous grin on her face, the red rims around her eyes doing little to lessen her attractiveness. "Shall we get started, then?" That tone was back.

Naesala chuckled briefly, a warm smile on his face. "I knew that would cheer you up. C'mon, let's go." He took her hand and led her into one of the buildings that rimmed the courtyard. Leanne's long, gold hair streamed out behind her, the little sun that filtered down through the fog reflecting off it. Reyson's breath caught in his throat. She was truly an angel.

~-~-~-~

Naesala left six days later for Kilvas. It was the first time Leanne had been alone since she was married eight months before, so naturally she was upset. Every fiber in Reyson's being wished to comfort her, to hold her in his arms. An only slighter smaller part of him wanted to use the comfort he could giver her as a springboard to something much more intimate.

But the days passed, and Leanne got used to living by herself. She no longer cried and no longer needed comfort, so the haphazard attempt at a plan of action Reyson had put together to get into Leanne's bed fell to pieces.

Leanne's nightly routine did not change following Naesala's departure, so neither did Reyson's. What she did during her nights at the forest spring underneath the waterfall did change, however. Two weeks after Naesala had left, Reyson had taken his stroll to the waterfall, not taking in any of nature's beauty, not feeling the dirt beneath his boots, not hearing the snapping of twigs as he stepped on them. His entire being was under siege by Leanne's song and an image of her unclothed body, leaving no room for anything else. Reyson began to slow his pace as he heard the sweet melodies of the love galdr and the soothing rush of the waterfall intertwine in his ear. Reyson crept closer to the bush he always hid behind, beating his wings softly to lighten his footsteps. He had to be more careful now, since the days were getting longer as the summer ticked by, and now Leanne almost always left before the sun completely set. Reyson was careful, however, and she didn't notice a thing as he took his normal position among the foliage at the edge of the spring. Reyson settled down and got comfortable, and the evening promised to be no different than nay of the ones before.

That was, until Reyson heard Leanne's melodious voice falter in its song. Reyson jerked as if he was waken from a deep sleep. Leanne had never messed up her songs during the almost two months since Reyson had begun watching her. But now, after her tongue first slipped, she did it again, and again. She couldn't hold her notes for longer than a few seconds. Finally, Leanne stopped singing altogether.

She leaned back against the stone face behind her, a stressed look in her eyes. She lifted one of her hands up into the air, and Reyson could see it was shaking. Then she placed the shaking hand on her chest, before slowly letting it slide down over her breast. Reyson leaned in closer, becoming incredibly excited. Under the setting sun, he could see Leanne's fingertips brushing over her nipple, rubbing it gently. Her hand then slid down to the underside of her breast, wrapping her fingers around it and placing her thumb over the nipple. She began to squeeze it and rotate it on her chest, and her head fell backwards, her eyes closed and her mouth parted slightly. Her gorgeous body tightened with pleasure. She brought her other hand into play, drawing it down beneath her waist to her hips. She slowly let it pass in between her legs.

Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped. Leanne dropped the hand pleasuring her breast to her side, and jerked the other one out to see the light of day. She sloshed through the water to where her clothes were laying and, without even bothering to dry herself off first, threw them on and flew away. The expression on her face as she left was one of deep self-disgust.

~-~-~-~

_They were by the waterfall. She was standing in the water fully clothed, staring at Reyson, a coy smile on her face. Reyson stepped into the knee-deep pool, gliding over to her. Her perky breasts were pushing through the fabric of her robe, begging Reyson to come and tend to them. His hands gave them their wish, coming up to grab their soft bodies. As Reyson's hands frolicked, Leanne leaned towards him, her sensual lips falling into his. They kissed and Reyson let one of his hands open up the front of his robe, exposing his erection to the girl in front of him. She opened her own robe, and Reyson smiled through their kiss. She was his now._

There was a soft knocking at the door. Reyson's eyes opened blearily, staring out the window next to his bed. The sun hadn't even begun to creep up into the sky yet. The knocking came again, more persistent this time. Reyson sat up and got out of bed, pulling on his robe. "Coming!" he called out and opened the door.

It was Leanne. Reyson nearly jumped out of his skin with shock, and quickly closed the door slightly to hide the erection he still had from his latest dream about her. She smiled sweetly. "I'm sorry to wake you up so early," she apologized, twisting a lock of her lovely, flower-scented hair on a finger. She was wearing her sleeping gown and her blonde hair was sleep-tousled, but she still managed to look elegant and classy. Not to mention beautiful. "But I need to ask you a favor."

"No problem," Reyson replied, struggling to keep his eyes from drifting downward. "What do you need?"

"This'll probably sound really idiotic, but I was wondering if you..." she blushed before continuing, "If you would watch the sunrise with me. I know it sounds stupid, and I really shouldn't have woken you up so early, it's just that I didn't want to sit through another sunset all alone."

It was such an innocent request, and so at odds with the dream he just had, that Reyson began to feel guilty. He had been hoping very much that she would ask him, no, beg him, to join her in her bed. Ever since he first saw his sister naked under the waterfall, his perception of her had changed drastically. "Of course I will," Reyson answered, giving a friendly smile.

A few minutes later, they were on their way. The entire way their, Reyson couldn't help but look sideways at his sister's unsupported breasts jumping a little with each of her steps underneath the low-cut sleeping gown. He was aware of how painfully obvious his erection was beneath his robe, and he prayed that Leanne wouldn't look down there.

They arrived at Leanne's sleeping chambers without incident. She unlocked the door and let Reyson in. Several torches were burning, bathing the room in a soft, orange glow. "Over here," Leanne told him, taking him by the hand and leading him over to a small loveseat staring through a large window that ran from the floor to the ceiling. The first tinges of pink were appearing on the horizon now, and Leanne sat down on the sofa, her wings folded behind her back, beckoning Reyson to come sit next to her. He sat on the far edge of the sofa, careful not to tempt himself by touching her soft, silky skin. His heart was still beating wildly from when she took his hand. He felt a tap at his shoulder and turned to look at the woman beside him. Leanne held up a bottle of expensive wine. "Want a drink?" she asked innocently, handing him a glass.

Reyson began to wonder if the woman was torturing him on purpose. "Sure thing," he replied, pouring himself some, hoping it would calm him down.

Neither of them spoke a word as the sun gradually made its way over the horizon. Reyson was content to just sit and watch, simultaneously hoping that the situation would and would not lead to something. His eye ran lazily from the beautiful forest view outside the window to his sister's legs. They were long and creamy, and as his gaze traveled up her thighs, it was greeted with an immensely exciting and frightening shock. The short night gown, which barely passed the middle of her thighs while sitting, was hitched up to her crotch. He could see the back of her right hand buried in between them, gently shifting up and down. He gaze flicked up to her face in disbelief, but she wasn't looking at him. In fact, the only sign she gave that her body even knew what was happening was a slight pink tinge in her cheeks.

Reyson tore his eyes away, back to the picturesque view of the Serenes Forest through the window. He had never been so sexually excited in his life. There was wine, there was a breath-takingly romantic view, and, of course, the woman of his dreams masturbating barely a foot away. He began to sweat, and his hands were clenched at his side. He poured himself another drink, hoping to soothe his nerves.

The sun was about half-way up when she spoke. "Thank you again, for coming here like this, so early in the morning," she said, giving him that heart-melting smile. Her hand was still at work. "Naesala and I watch the sunrise together every morning, and I guess I just got lonely."

"I-I understand," Reyson croaked, his voice cracking. "I'd be lonely too if my spouse needed to leave for a few weeks," he added, subconsciously hoping that referencing her husband would stop the madness. Just an hour earlier, he had been dreaming about making love with his sister. Now, when faced with the actual prospect of doing it, he felt more nervous than he had ever felt in his life.

Mentioning Naesala didn't work. "I'm glad I know you, Reyson," she said, shifting sideways so she was leaning on him and placing her arms around his own. "I love you."

"I-I love you too, Leanne..." Reyson didn't know what else to say, didn't know how he could keep her from going any farther without hurting her feelings. He wasn't even sure he wanted her to stop.

But she did. Soon the sun was shining brilliantly in the morning sky, flooding the Serenes Forest in light. Leanne's arms were still wrapped around Reyson's right one, her head still on his shoulder. Reyson waited nervously for her to do something, and when she didn't, gave a slight cough. Leanne looked up at him, smiling apologetically. "Oops, sorry Reyson," she giggled. "I forgot that you weren't Naesala." Reyson forced a laugh, and Leanne released his arm, but not before planting a kiss on his cheek. She smiled again. "Thanks for everything, Reyson."

When Reyson left Leanne's chambers a few minutes later, his cheek was searing as if touched with a hot coal where Leanne's lips had brushed him.

~-~-~-~

Reyson watched the sunrise with Leanne every day for the rest of the week. These meetings became daily torture for him, filling him with sexual tension that he had no way to express. That's why he was initially reluctant when Leanne asked him for another favor.

"Reyson?" Leanne's soft voice brought Reyson to a standstill, turning him to her. She looked very uncomfortable. She was biting her lip and wringing her hands in front of her.

"Yeah, Leanne?"

"Um..." Leanne looked away, blushing. "Never mind, it's nothing." She was about to go when Reyson called back to her.

"What is it, Leanne? You know you can talk to me, whatever it is." She turned around, swallowing.

"Okay... I-I was wondering if you would... sleep with me... No, no, I didn't mean that!" she gasped, shaking her head hurriedly when she saw Reyson's shocked expression. She continued quickly, "I meant to ask if you would sleep next to me. It would so much easier for both of us if I didn't have to walk all the way to your chambers every morning and drag you back here to watch the sunrise. Also..." The red tinge in her face deepened. "My bed also feels really empty, since I'm alone..."

Reyson was touched by how innocent she was, asking such a question. He had overflowed with shock and excitement and nervousness and fear when she originally said 'sleep with me', but he should have known better. "Of course I will," he answered kindly. "What time should I come by?"

"We'll go together after desert is served tonight." She gave me her patented heart-melting smile. "Thank you so much, Reyson."

That night, they walked to Leanne's chamber together. They walked in silence, mainly because there was nothing to talk about. Nothing ever happened among the tiny population of bird Laguz that lived in the Serenes. When they arrived, she doused all of the torches, leaving the candles lit to give a little light. She let Reyson get changed in her dressing room first while she brushed her hair. Reyson couldn't help but breathe in the sensual scent of the perfume which clung to her clothes. He changed quickly and left the dressing room, climbing into her bed. A few minutes later, after changing into her very revealing night gown, she climbed in as well. Though it was too dark to see much, Reyson could feel himself becoming even more aroused beneath the sheets. He shifted to the very edge of the bed, forcing himself to keep his back to her. After listening to her sleep for an eternity, Reyson finally fell into the darkness of sleep.

Reyson woke a few hours later. He had rolled over in his sleep, and his opening eyes were greeted by the still-sleeping form of Leanne. He was about to close his eyes again when they widened again with shock. Leanne was sleeping on her side, facing Reyson. The blanket that covered them both came up to her waist, so the rest of her body was only covered by her nightgown. It wasn't doing a very good job. While she slept, the shoulder-strap had slid down her arm, exposing the right half of her chest. Her nipple winked at him under the candlelight, beckoning him closer. Reyson could feel his left hand stretching out, pulled by some hypnotic force. His fingers carefully closed around the soft half-globe, and began to massage it gently. The firm tissue melted under the pressure, stretching and squeezing under Reyson's direction. Reyson was leaning on his elbows now, unable to keep his hand away from his sister. His fingers pinched the soft pink nipple at the peak of the breast, gently tugging on it.

Suddenly, Leanne turned over in her sleep, rotating onto her back. Reyson dropped her breast, freezing up as watched it bounce gently on her chest. Under the flickering flame of the candle, Reyson could dimly see a faint tinge of red on her sister's cheeks and a slight smile on her lips, but no other sign that she might have awoken. Shaking with a combination of fear and exhilaration, Reyson forced himself to lie back down, turning away from her luscious breasts. Those breasts visited him in his dreams that night.

~-~-~

A week and a half later, Leanne showed Reyson a letter she had just received from Naesala. It said that he would be returning to the forest the night after that, along with some new immigrants who had decided to migrate away from Kilvas. Leanne was beside herself with glee, throwing her arms around Reyson and pressing the lovely breasts that Reyson had fondled without her knowledge against his chest.

Reyson was also glad upon hearing the news, since it meant an end to the nightly torture he put himself through to make Leanne happy. He had spent every night since the first one in Leanne's bed under self-enforced celibacy, forbidding himself from even looking at the sleeping form next to him, all the while remembering and re-living their first night together. From there, he would undergo even more suffering as they shared drinks while watching the daylight creep out from the horizon, letting rest her head on his shoulder and wrap her arms around one of his own. Only then, after the sun had completely risen, could he excuse himself and leave her company, going back to his room where he could masturbate and envision all his sexual fantasies, each of which contained his own sister in the starring role. Reyson had already decided that, upon Naesala's arrival, he was going to go on his own trip, leaving all the shame and degradation he had faced here since the first night he had seen his sister bathing under the waterfall behind.

That night, after changing into his nightclothes and feeling Leanne slipping into her bed beside him and bracing himself for this final night of anguish, Reyson felt a tap at his shoulder. Reyson sighed noiselessly, knowing that he would not be able to banish the image of his sister lying next to him in bed from his head for the rest of the night, and rolled over onto his elbow to face her. He was right.

Leanne was kneeling on top of the covers of her bed, her knees spread apart. He could taste the scent of her perfume and shampoo in the air. Her golden hair fell down her body, framing her angelic face. In place of the normal, white nightgown she usually wore to sleep, she was wearing a very erotic black slip that night. Its shoulder straps ended at two triangular pieces of almost transparent fabric that covered each breast, showing a lovely amount of cleavage. The gown would have ended a few inches below the hip had she been standing, but because she was sitting, rose up above her hips, letting Reyson at his angle see everything underneath. She was wearing no panties.

Seeing Reyson's dazed stare, she smiled coyly, bending over towards him. Her lips stopped a bare three inches from Reyson's forehead, her breasts almost rolling out from behind the cups of her nightgown. Seeing no resistance, her lips ran kisses down his head, letting her tongue jab at Reyson's burning flesh, before ending at his mouth. Her tongue pushed through Reyson's stunned lips, exploring the inside of his mouth, caressing his tongue. Reyson finally awoke from his stupor, pulling his face away from Leanne's, backing away. "W-What are you doing?" he gasped, unable to keep his eyes from admiring her perfect body.

"Don't tell me you don't want it," Leanne whispered back, the oh-so sensual edge to her voice almost breaking his will. She began to crawl closer on her hands and knees. "I won't believe you,"

Reyson reached the brink of her bed and stopped dead, unable to force himself to get out, unable to irrevocably take away his chance at sleeping with Leanne. She crept closer and closer, slowly letting the straps of her black slip drift down her shoulders. "Leanne, don't..." Reyson pleaded, knowing his voice held no conviction. "I... I don't want you to..."

"I already told you, I don't believe you." Her perfectly manicured fingers reached out to him, coming down on his leg. He jerked away from her touch, sliding up the backboard of the bed, so he was sitting up. She gave him a flirtatious smile, and reached out again. His mind was powerless to keep his body's desire at bay anymore, and her hand successfully found his thigh. She caressed the skin there, slowly letting her body climb up his, her face approaching his again. Her hand reached under the folds of his robe, finding his massive erection. "And here is my proof," she murmured, her lips an inch away from his ear. She opened up his robe and his erection jumped out into her open palm. She began to slide her soft hand up and down its length.

Reyson could feel her hand on his penis and her breasts flattening against his chest, but he couldn't let himself give up. "Please, Leanne..." he gasped. "I don't want this. I-I'm your brother..."

The tips of her tongue kissed the inside of his ear, moistening it. The soft poetry of her words caressed his ear lovingly, making love to his mind. "We're you my brother when you were spying on me at the waterfall?" those words asked him. "We're you my brother when I woke up that first night to feel you touching my breasts?" She sensed the expression of shock and dismay on the face of her brother, continuing, "Yes, I know all about that. That one night where you tripped as you were leaving my waterfall, I saw you for the first time. The night after, I looked for you, wanting to know if you would try to see me again. You did. Knowing where to look, I saw you countless times after that." Her tongue penetrated his ear again, and the hand stroking his penis sped up. "At first, I was furious with you, but then I began to enjoy the attention. Then Naesala left, and I was all alone. Me and Naesala had made love almost every night we could for eight months, since we were married. Our honeymoon was our first time, and I loved it. Once I had a taste of the night life, I just couldn't stop."

Releasing Reyson's erection, she drew her hand up to her shoulders, pushing both straps down her arms, letting the nightgown fall off her breasts. Her hand then took Reyson's, bringing it up and pressing it against one of her soft and delectable tits. His grip was weak at first, but she pressed up closer to Reyson's body, forcing her breast into his hand. Her fingers returned to attend to Reyson's penis. "After Naesala left for Kilvas, I began abstaining from sex for the first time in months. I wasn't used to it. I began to feel incredibly aroused all the time, until finally, at the waterfall, I broke down. I began masturbating right in front of you, my own brother. As soon as I realized what I was doing, I was ashamed, and I forced myself to stop. But I couldn't stop for long. As soon as I made it to the privacy of this chamber, my will broke down again. I was desperate to stop the intense arousal and libido and nymphomania. All the servants are either women or men Nealuchi's age, and at first I thought I would have to wait weeks for my husband to return. Then I remembered you, and knew that you were perfect. I'm already very close to you and I also knew you were attracted to me. Not only that," she continued, smiling. "I also find you rather attractive as well. But I was still nervous about making a fool of myself by seeming _too _forward, so my plan was to be alone with you as much as possible and let you make the first move." Seeming to sense Reyson's impending orgasm, her hand froze, letting him cool down, enjoying Reyson's manipulation of her breast.

"When I first invited you to watch the sunrise with me and saw you erection, I knew I could do it, but you turned out to be more... willful than I imagined. Even after a started _touching myself _in front of you, you did nothing. I tried wearing you down by inviting you over and over again, but to no avail. Beginning to become desperate again, I finally invited you into my bed. At first I thought that my plan was failing when you refused to even look at me that night, but then I woke up in the middle of the night with someone touching my breast." Her face drifted sideways, her lips brushing against his, but her tongue remained in her mouth. "You don't know how much that pleased me. Finally, someone else was ending my torturous libido. I rolled onto my back, letting both of my breasts become available to you, hoping you would take advantage of me. But, I guess I scared you off or something, because you stopped. Every night since, I've waited for you. Finally, I decided to do it myself. Naesala's coming back tomorrow, but I've invested too much effort in you to stop now."

Her hand began to stroke Reyson expertly again, and Reyson's breath caught in his throat. "You knew..." he whispered. "You knew..." His grip on Leanne's breast tightened with anger directed towards himself.

"Yes," she whispered back, taking her hand back. She pulled off Reyson's robe completely, letting it drop to the ground beside the bed. She touched her moist lips to his neck, letting them run kisses down his whole body, all the way down to his erection. She kissed its head, licking it gently at first, before taking it into her mouth.

Reyson's head fell back against the headboard, his eyes closed. The whole time, all those nights and mornings suffering himself to not take advantage of his sister, his sister had _wanted _to be taken advantage of. A slight, humorless smile curled the corners of Reyson's mouth, totally unrelated to the pleasure building up in between his legs. All the wasted time. But now, now his sister was servicing him. Now, he could get what he had wanted for so long.

Reyson's breathing tightened as the warm humidity of Leanne's mouth coupled with her tongue built up all the bliss he felt until he thought he was going to explode. Reyson could tell that Leanne knew what she was doing. She would lick him and kiss him and suck on him until he was filled to bursting with pleasure, before releasing him, ignoring his penis for a few moments while she kissed and caressed other parts of his body. She kept doing this, switching between his organ and body, extending the sexual experience as long as possible, until, finally, she kept going and Reyson shared the first orgasm he ever had because of someone else with his sister. His muscles tightened, his wings, which were folded behind his back, struggled to stretch to their very limit, and his teeth grit together as the most basic and carnal of all happinesses flooded his body.

Leaving Reyson's penis behind, Leanne crawled back up Reyson's body, letting her breasts drag against him. She threw her arms around his neck, pushing her tongue into his mouth in a furious kiss. Reyson played an active role this time, letting his tongue play with hers, bringing his arms around her back, caressing her wings, which she let explode out behind her. Drawing back from his for a moment, she pulled the nightgown off, leaving her in her glorious nudity. Her body was shining like gold by the candles, her eyes sparkling diamonds, her breasts soft pearls. She pressed those pearls into Reyson's face, burying him in her animalistic sexuality. A lustful excitement grew in Reyson's chest and the love galdr Leanne had sung all those nights by the waterfall sprang unbidden into his mind. The song so matched his feelings of sexual curiosity and passion, and now he knew why it had drawn him to his sister that first night. He let her smother under the soft and firm pressure of her luscious breasts, letting his hands handle them with a combination of rough manipulation and gentle caressing. He ran his tongue over them, letting it wrap around her nipple, sucking on it. She moaned with pleasure, pressing her breast harder into his mouth, begging him to continue. His mouth worked on them greedily, and he could feel her nipples grow as hard as rocks. Her face was flushed a deep red, and she was gritting her teeth.

Her hand reached back behind her, finding Reyson's penis hard and erect again. She played with it for a bit, her hands frolicking around the organ. Then, she pushed him up the headboard, making his sit up straight. She let her breasts draw away from Reyson's mouth and straddled Reyson legs in front of his penis. She leaned forward again, pressing her cherry-red lips into Reyson's, drawing him into another kiss while her fingers wrapped around his penis. She lifted her hips into the air, and her back arched as she tried to keep her tongue in contact with Reyson's as she speared his erection in between her legs. Her hips dropped down like a stone, forcing Reyson into her perfect body. Both gasped with pleasure. Leanne lifted her hips up again, stopping just short enough to keep him from falling out, and then slammed down again. She began to pump faster and faster, her breasts bouncing like mad on her chest. Reyson grabbed the soft orbs, arching his back forward and tilting the breast up so he could bring his tongue to them. His senses were overloaded by the taste of the sweet, flowery perfume the clung to her skin like a mist combined with the salty and sensual taste of her sweat.

The air was filled with the moans and gasps that escaped Leanne's open mouth and the nasal grunts that came through Reyson's nose as his mouth worked on her tits. Reyson fingers tightened mercilessly around the middle of each one as he drew his mouth away, and he gently pushed her back onto the bed, careful not to let his erection come out of her body. He leaned over her, pinching her nipple with one hand and supporting himself with his other. He invaded his sister's mouth again his tongue caressing the dark reaches of her mouth. His hips rose up into the air a few inches, before slamming back down into hers. Her back arched with pleasure and pain, and she wrapped his arms around his neck for support as she fought his tongue with hers. He pounded her hips with his relentlessly, his erection coming in and out of her body. His hand shaped her breast with wanton desperation, flattening it against her chest, stretching it out, pulling on the nipple, squeezing it, forcing the ample skin to push through the gaps in his fingers.

Against all odds, however, Reyson reached his climax first. His hips stopped moving, his back arched, his wings stretching out as far as they could, his fingers a grip of steel on her breast. She let his release come out into her before flipping him over and slamming her hips down on his sensitive penis. He tried to jerk away instinctively, but she wouldn't let him, and she pounded him until she reached the zenith of her pleasure, falling off him onto his soft, pillowy wing. She let her head rest there, smiling contentedly, her breath coming in deep, silent gasps. Reyson's chest rose and fell slowly, his eyes closed with exhaustion. He had never done anything so tiring in all his pampered life. He could feel on of her wings curl over and tickle his chest as she flipped onto her stomach, letting her arm rest on him. Moments later, Reyson fell asleep with Leanne right behind, their sweat-covered, unclothed bodies lying entwined atop the covers of Leanne's bed.

From above, it was very easy to see the resemblance between the two.

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**Don't forget to answer the poll. Also, feel free to request any pairings.**


	5. Temptation

**Welcome back, and here's the longest story yet. I'm sorry it took so long (once again). The original story I had started was accidentally deleted when I was nearly done, and I lost a lot of my motivation after that. I'm still probably one of the worst updaters ever, anyway.**

**Well, here's Chapter IV: Temptation. As always, reviews and suggestions are welcome.**

**NOTE: This chapter DOES contain character SPOILERS, though it doesn't explain how the two are related. But don't say I didn't warn you! It's not my fault you don't read the Author's Note.**

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****Temptation**

The heat was part of life in Begnion. Waves and waves of it crashed down upon the citizens of Begnion's southern provinces, drenching them in sweat and exhaustion. The sun bore down upon them, its harsh reality not deflected for even a moment by a single cloud or even a breeze.

In the city of Sienne, the capitol of Begnion and its southern-most major city, the Goddess was being especially unforgiving. Heat shimmered above the cracked roads like a dry, unfulfilling liquid, people wore many layers too keep out the heat, and shade and water had become as valuable commodities as silver. Windows were shut and curtains were drawn, all in a futile attempt to keep from going insane.

The Imperial Palace was no exception. The upper reaches of the building were like furnaces, slow cooking every inhabitant until all the energy drained out of them. Empress Sanaki was unfortunate enough to reside in one of those rooms.

She lied atop the heavy, feathery bed, her skin slick with sweat, one hand draped languidly over her forehead, the other sending feeble gusts of wind over her flushed cheeks with an expensive, many-patterned fan. The room was dim, lit only by a few candles, hardly any sunlight filtering through the heavy curtains covering the windows. Even in the twilight, she could make out the lavish decoration of the room. Paintings by Begnion's greatest artists hung sternly from the walls, an ornate mirror straddled an equally ornate chest of drawers, and the curtains were decorated with a complex and beautiful motif that must have taken ages to weave. However, Sanaki was in no mood for admiring art. Listlessly, she swung her thin but attractive legs over the side of the bed, dropping to the floor to stand up. Weaving slightly as the blood rushed from her head, she stumbled over the door. Her hand caught the gilded knob when she hesitated. Thinking for a moment, her heat-struck mind finally remembered she was dressed only in an airy white skirt and a purple undershirt, hardly proper attire for an empress, even in her own home. Pulling on the elaborate and flamboyant red cloak that she was expected to wear and slipping her feet into sandals, she opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. It was empty; she had ordered the guards to stand sentry away from her room, hating their constant presence.

"_Jaaaaaan!_" she called out irritably and a fat old eunuch came running down the hallway.

"Yes... you're majesty..." he wheezed, clutching the rolls of fat shielding his chest. "How... may I... help you...?"

"I would like to take a bath now," she answered, unsympathetic. "Please set it up for me. I want the water to be cool... but not too cold, I don't want to get sick. And set out some refreshments as well. With food, I'm getting pretty hungry. And don't forget the towels. I'm going to talk with the Prime Minister right now for a few minutes, and I want everything ready by the time I'm done."

"Of course, your majesty," her servant replied, having caught his breath. "I'll have everything set up at once." Bowing to the young empress, he waddled off.

Wiping a few errant beads of sweat from her forehead, Sanaki turned and made her way the opposite direction, to the office of Prime Minister Sephiran, duke of Persis. She crossed the long, empty corridors, occasionally passing a pair of guards, each one jumping into a salute until she was out of sight. She passed no one else; the fourth and highest floor of the Imperial Palace of Begnion was reserved for only the Empress and the most important people in the empire, along with a few servants and numerous fanatical guards.

Eventually, she reached a tall winged door, flanked by two opposite statues of flying birds: Sephiran's office. Sanaki had long wondered what species of bird they were. Swan? Herons? Geese? She had once asked the tall, raven-haired man who worked there, but he had just grinned and told her that they were just birds. Her heart warmed at the thought of Sephiran's smile. He had the kindest and most handsome face of any man Sanaki had ever met, especially when it was filled with joy. She strode up to the massive doors, reaching up to the brass knocker, then touching it home three times. For any other person in the Empire, she would have just strolled in without knocking, but Sephiran deserved more than that.

"Come in," the unusually gruff voice muttered, dulled by the heavy wood door. Sanaki frowned for an instant, the hitched a smile and pushed open the door. "Is that how you normally address you empress?" she asked playfully, flicking her vibrant blue hair over her shoulder with practiced contempt as she fell onto the plush couch leaning against the wall, her eyes twinkling at Sephiran. She hardly even noticed how ragged he seemed.

His whites were cracked with red lines, a deep shadow under his eyes, his face unshaven, but a grin lit up his face, and the miserable shadows were banished, leaving the handsome young face to welcome her. "Empress, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Sanaki reclined on the couch, inspecting her nails. "I wanted to inquire as to how my little pet project was going... It's been three weeks, correct?" She glanced up at him, her lips curling happily. "And please, as I've told you before, call me Sanaki when were alone."

"Forgive me, Sanaki, I forgot." Sanaki knew he just liked to be asked. Sephiran steepled his fingers and continued, "As for your plan to place Laguz into administrative positions, I'm afraid it's not going very well. The public opinion is still very much against the Laguz population in general, and it's been very difficult getting the senate to play along, since any appointment to any real position of power requires the authorization of the duke or count or whatever appropriate nobleman..." The Prime Minister of Begnion paused, closing his eyes and rubbing the lids, a yawn distorting his features, but Sanaki was inspecting her nails again and didn't notice. The young empress waved for him to continue with a regal flick of the wrist, and he did so. "To make a long story short, it seems that the lower the rank of nobleman, the more corrupt and less willing to accept new officials into his cabinet, Laguz or not. The higher you go, it seems the more racist the noblemen get, and you can imagine why that would be an issue. The real difficulties had been in getting someone to test it out, in an area with historically more tolerance than average."

Sanaki lowered her fingers and glanced sharply at Sephiran. "So... what? It's not going to work?"

"I don't know, Sanaki... I just don't know."

Sanaki lips thinned visibly and she crossed her arms, a bead of sweat rolling sluggishly down her forehead. "Then find a way to make it work, Sephiran. That's what I pay you for, isn't it? MY decision is final."

Sephiran didn't answer at once. After a few moments enduring Sanaki's haughty glare, he calmly replied, "As you wish, Empress."

Sanaki knew she hurt the man's feelings, and she felt sorry in a way, but she felt she was right and that was that. But still, she needed him. She allowed her face to fall, her eyes lowering. "I- I'm sorry, Sephiran... I shouldn't have spoken to you that way. It's the heat, it's making me... testy."

Sephiran nodded, wiping his own forehead. "I understand completely, Sanaki. I have rather low heat tolerance, since the castle in Persis I grew up in was on a mountain, where it was very cool. But here... I hardly slept a wink last night. And the night before was almost as bad."

Sanaki nodded sympathetically, understanding why it would be more difficult for someone such as him than someone such as herself, who had grown up in the harsh desert climate of Sienne. "Thanks for the chat, Sephiran. I have a cool bath waiting for me, unless there is something you would like to discuss?"

The duke of Persis shook his head. "No, nothing, except to say I will try harder to help get a Laguz in office somewhere, and help him stay there."

Sanaki smiled. "Thanks, Sephiran. You've always been great to me." Jumping to her feet, she flounced out the door, strolling merrily to the cool water that awaited her. The injustices heaped upon the Laguz people inside Begnion had always disgusted her, but on her own there wasn't much she could do to stop it. The senate blocked every move she made, and the only way any of them would side with her was with Sephiran's assistance. Sephiran was the most respected man in the country, and could easily sway the votes of the less opinionated senators.

She turned a corner and she saw Jan standing outside a reinforced door, mopping sweat from his brow with a handkerchief, holding two white towels in his arm. Sanaki coughed slightly before approaching and her servant looked up. "Ah, Empress, your bath and refreshments are ready and waiting. Here is your towel..." he bowed and presented the pure white length of fabric and she accepted it elegantly. "Thank you, Jan," she replied, and closed the door behind her. A long mosaic of tinted glass stretched across the side of the chamber, and sunlight filtered through cheerily, different colors dancing across the floor and walls, reflected by the massive mirror that encompassed the other side of the room, broken by the door.

At the far end of the room was the raised platform out of which her bath was cut approached by sweeping marble stairs. On top of that platform she could see her wine and a bowl of fruit perched at the edge, along with several clean washing rags. She dropped the towels at the side of the bath for the moment and walked back to the door, next to which was a small basket where her clothes could be kept dry. Pulling the heavy, stifling cloak off, she dropped it in distastefully. She hated having to wear it. It reminded of her of what she was and what she couldn't be. Though she did not resent being the Empress of Begnion, she wished she could let her hair loose every once and a while, have fun. If she did that now, though, the senate would have a field day. Sighing, she stripped, dropping the rest of the clothes into the basket, and went back to the bathtub, enjoying the cool touch of the marble floor against her bare feet.

At the foot of the steps, she turned and looked at herself in the mirror. Fluffing her hair, she twisted her body into an attractive pose she had learned from watching the female servants that whispered and gossiped to each other all day long, hardly even recognizing her presence. They knew she was there, she was the Empress after all, but she was just an object to them, a symbol of power. Not a real person. Sanaki gave a small little pout, lifting her delicate breasts gingerly with her hands, leaning forward a little. She giggled, but with that brief amusement came real sadness. She would never show that pose to anyone. There was almost no chance she would love her future husband, someone who would no doubt come from the senate, probably a marriage designed to strengthen some bond or another. Not a love match.

Sanaki sighed again, more deeply this time, and wrapped a small towel around her head, drawing her long blue hair into it. Her stylist would not be happy if her hair got wet; it didn't dry well at all. She dipped her foot timidly into the water. Cool, but not too cold. Her foot shivered, but compared to the heat outside the water it was liquid heaven. She slowly slipped into the water, goose bumps rising on her silky skin. She stretched out beneath the water, the water submerging everything except her head.

She lay still, letting the cool liquid sink into her, systematically banishing the heat of the day. It bit at her sensitive skin, tightening her nipples and numbing her fingers. She drew her hands out of the water, letting grip the side of the tub. It was a bit icier than she would have liked, but it was much better than gruesome temperatures elsewhere.

As her body grew accustomed to the cold, her mind gradually began slipping away from the present, spiraling away into daydreams and fantasies. She was lying atop her bed, dressed in a pure white dress, moonlight shimmering on the floor beside the window, candles decorating the room. She looked down; the dress was ravaged at the middle, torn open, and she could see her bare chest and breasts, her flat stomach and shapely hips. She looked up and saw a golden-bearded man with wavy blonde hair perched above her, his bony fingers gripping her waist. He was dressed in his regal senatorial robes, pulled open to uncover a black, demonic erection staring at her. A lecherous grin split his face and he whispered, _too bad you didn't let us do this before, we would have done whatever you asked..._ A sharp pain in her loins: Sanaki gasped, feeling blood flow from her as he pounded his penis into her, roughly and without any love or affection. A pampered but boorish hand closed around a soft breast, and Sanaki moaned and her hands grappled with his forearm to try to force him off, but she was too weak. He fingered her roughly and painfully, twisting and pinching her nipples, digging his fingers into the soft fat. Sanaki cried out, turning her head to one side, where, eyes half open, she could see her wedding veil lying forgotten...

Sanaki started out of her reverie, water splashing out of the bath, draining in rivulets down the marble steps. She had to physically spin her eyes around the room to assure herself that Lekain wasn't standing over her, that carnal smile baring its teeth. Sanaki sunk deeper into the water, blowing bubbles with a deep sigh, closing her eyes. Lekain. The golden-haired bastard who did his best to strike her down wherever possible. Just setting eyes on him sent spikes of anger stabbing into her chest and head; his condescending manner of speech, contemptuous smile, his extravagant clothing, all hidden behind a thin veil of obedience and loyalty. Just the thought of Lekain, or one of his other pathetic and corrupt lackeys in the Imperial Senate, seeing her body, reaching in and stealing her virginity, tearing out her heart and its life-giving strings, then dumping her on the floor like a used toy, turning her into a figurehead, a smoke screen hiding the puppet master... It was an icy dagger in her heart. Without even realizing it, she crossed her arms across her chest protectively and pressed her thighs together, anger coursing through her veins. Not even the knowledge that she could choose her own husband comforted her; the only one she trusted completely was Sephiran, but he was already a mentor, friend, and father figure to her. Could he carry the burden of being her lover as well? There were others in the senate who supported her and would cherish her like she so desired, but they were hardly acceptable matches, weak and without influence, forever eclipsed by Lekain and his supporters. _Acceptable matches..._ The words carried a certain venom, a poison that paralyzed her, forcing her to make a choice among her own 'class'. Sanaki glowered at the opulent bathroom she used. How she hated the constant need for acceptance by the people. Constantly holding back, checking herself, reassuring herself that her actions wouldn't alienate the people, because those people could make her life hell. She wanted to branch out, to grow deep green leaves, beautiful flowers, lustrous fruit. She wanted to be free of the rusty chains of her position. Sanaki sighed.

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The heat did not weaken the next day. In fact, if possible, it beat down with even more intensity and cruelty. Sanaki had grown up in the heat, though, and bore it as best she could. It was more difficult, however, when she had nothing to distract herself from the fiery city surrounding her. There were no important senate meetings, the only ones she was expected to attend, and there wouldn't be for another week. There were no speeches, no appearances, to meetings of any sort. She had no friends her own age and hadn't since she still played in the nursery provided by the palace for its workers. The thought of practicing fire magic in those temperatures disgusted her, and she couldn't eat too much or her lead stylist would be on her case. That had always annoyed her, since she was very slender and in no danger of becoming overweight any time soon. She had nothing to do.

She sat in an antique armchair overlooking the cold, desolate fireplace, reading. It was a classic fiction, penned by one of Begnion's greatest authors, scribed lovingly with long, looping letters with soft curves and sharp points, the pages bound carefully so it would last an eternity. And it was mind numbingly dull. Sanaki tossed the book aside, running one hand through the blue locks spilling over her shoulder. Her fingers came back slick and oily, her hair damp with sweat. She decided that getting her hair scrubbed that day was a must.

She got to her feet, having decided to exhaust the only interesting thing to do all day: her visit with Sephiran. Within minutes, she was knocking on the man's door, inspecting the soaring birds as always, until he invited her in.

"You look exhausted," were the first words to come out of Sanaki's mouth upon entering the room, and he did. The shadows beneath his eyes were heavy and purple, contrasting his pale face, and his eyes were blood-lined and heavy-lidded. It seemed he had managed to find time for a shave, but it was a poor one, leaving black prickles stranded on his face, along with several red cuts. His mouth, usually playful, a smile almost always tugging at his lips, was pale and drawn, exhaustion pulling the features of his face into an exaggerated grimace. His hair was unruly and tangled, its normally straight lines curving into filthy locks that twisted away into the main of jet-black. He looked awful.

"I'm fine, Sanaki..." he mumbled, forgetting to even wait for permission to use her name. Though Sanaki didn't mind, it surprised her. "I just wasn't able to get much sleep last night... at all..."

"Well... what were you doing all night?" Sanaki asked, feeling rather sorry for him. "Just lying in bed?"

"Lying in bed...? No. I..." His mouth stretched into a yawn, wrinkling his face. "...After I realized I wasn't going to get to sleep, I worked for several hours, but I wasn't able to get much done..."

"How much sleep have you gotten in the last few days?" Sanaki questioned further, hands on her hips, fretting over the well-being of one of the only people who she cared about in the world.

"The past three days, I've gotten maybe two hours..."

"That's terrible!" Sanaki gasped, crossing her arms. "You should definitely take a break. No more working for the rest of the day! My orders."

Sephiran shook his head, a tiny smile decorating his face. "I appreciate your concern, Sanaki, but I must refuse. This is the job I signed up for, and I enjoy doing it. I'll do my best."

"But Sephiran-" Sanaki started.

"Empress. Please, let me do my job." The Prime Minister's tone was sharp, honed by exhaustion. He paused at the scandalized look on her face. "I'm sorry, Sanaki. I didn't mean to be so rude. Please except my apologies." He bowed his head in shame.

Sanaki crossed her arms again, a haughty look on her face that just begged to say _I told you so. _"Fine, I will accept your apology: on one condition. You must take the day off, and come get a massage with me." Her voice sunk to a low, patronizing tone, given to her by her position of power. "Your lack of sleep has obviously interfered with your ability to do your job. You need to relax."

Sephiran sighed, then snapped the heavy records book he had been writing in shut, placing the quill back into its jar. "Very well, Empress, I accept your terms.

Sanaki thought back to that conversation, stretched out on a soft, cushioned table, the masseuse's hands skillfully exploring the hills and valleys of her disrobed back, smiling. It was so obvious how much Sephiran had wanted a break, and she had given him the perfect excuse. She lied atop a towel, with another covering her bottom half. Her top half was bare, her breasts flattened against the towel, their soft side-swell pushing gently against the arms that lied parallel to her sides.

Several feet to her left lounged Sephiran, on another table. He too was naked, a towel covering his lower body, lying face down. His head was turned toward hers, his raven hair spilling over his face, but his eyes were closed, and the gentle, rhythmic lifts of his back indicated he was asleep, or at least close.

Sanaki smiled, closing her own eyes. They were outside, in a private quarter of the palace gardens, where only the royal family and its guests were allowed. The two tables were set up in a small square, the cobbled white brick glowing with sunlight, with a beautiful forest of exotic plants surrounding them and another small bath that shimmered gaily. The heat was not oppressive outside; in fact, it felt refreshing on her naked body, tingling on her pale back, the thin layer of sweat a natural oil the masseuse spread across her skin. Birds twittered amongst the trees, their song lulling a melody that didn't put her to sleep, but reawakened her, drawing her out from herself, pulling out all her wants and desires, hopes and expectations, fears and depressions. These emotions mixed softly in her head, not overpowering her, just letting her examine them. The daydream she had the day before came to mind, but it no longer frightened her. It was just a silly nightmare, hardly realistic. In fact-

_Crash!_ Sanaki eyes shot open, her train of thought falling off its rails, screeching to a halt. Sephiran's masseuse, a young woman, just recently apprenticed to the older woman tending to Sanaki, was kneeling on the ground, gathering the remnants of a shattered glass in her hand. "Please forgive me, Lord Sephiran," she was murmuring, her voice fast and skittish. Sephiran had wakened at the noise, and was looking at the girl groveling on the ground in surprise. "Forgive me for waking you, sir, I knocked over your drink as well, please forgive me..."

The face of Sanaki's attendant was mottled with rage. "Fool!" she hissed, her voice hoarse with age and anger. "Clean this mess and leave here. How dare you disturb your master's harmony! Go, now!"

The young girl rushed off, face shining with tears. Sanaki noticed that the girl was hardly much older than her, and she felt some pity. Sephiran was of the same mind. "It's quite all right," he was saying to the apologizing master. "I wasn't really sleeping anyway. I'm not angry."

Sanaki propped herself up on one elbow, lifting her head into the air, using that same arm to hide her breast. "You may go now, Phyllis." The old woman fell silent and turned back to her immediately, bowing, thanking her for using her humble services, then left, no doubt to yell at the poor girl some more. Watching her leave, Sanaki suddenly noticed something. The woman's short hair was, even in her advanced age, a golden yellow, and it fell about her shoulders in the same way as Lekain's...

Lekain. Before, when the birds had been singing and her back was being massaged and she was relaxed, that dream she had of Lekain had not troubled her. But the birds did not tranquil her any more, and she felt anger pump from her heart into every part of her body. It infuriated her; she was the apostle and the last of her line, and one day she would have to marry and bear a daughter, to be sure Begnion always had someone who could speak with the goddess. But who would be the father? It may not be Lekain, but it would be someone from the senate, no doubt, some corrupt, racist bastard who'd do her, then steal all her innocence and power and influence and toss her away like a used napkin. But why should that be? Why should the political husband be the first? No man in the world would dare follow her into her bed without a wedding ring, not yet, not the holy apostle of the Goddess Ashera herself, at least none that Sanaki would consider. But that didn't mean that she couldn't bare herself to them, by accident, of course, take that little bit of satisfaction away from her match. But what if that man ran off and whispered to his cronies down at the bar that _he_ saw the _Empress_ herself _naked_! If that sort of talk got around, she'd be branded as some sort of slut...

Sanaki shook her head, flicking her hair over her shoulder, running her fingers along a soft red ribbon she had wrapped around a lock of hair that morning. What was she thinking about, anyway? Stripping in public to spite some husband that may or may not be a jerk, or may or may not be a wonderful person? She even considered sleeping around just to prove to herself that she wasn't as confined as she thought! Sanaki rested her head against the table, her back straightened out again. She was assuming the worst. Considering that she would be able to choose her own husband, that greatly reduced the chances of having some crooked two-timing senator meet her on her wedding bed. It was all hypothetical anyway; she could never bring herself to do any of that.

Then she turned her head and saw Sephiran, his eyes staring off at some point a few feet above her. Her eyes carved around the feminine, sensuous features of his face, his clear blue eyes, his innocent, yet conspiratory smile. She felt the fine needle of lust dig deep inside her, and instinctively her hips moved ever so slightly into a softer, more inviting pose before she even knew what was happening. Sanaki froze, wresting control of her body from her emotions. What had happened? She had never felt that way about her trusted advisor before. And why should she? He was her friend, her minister, her father figure, and her mentor, not a lover... Sanaki began stroking the ribbon in her hair again. An idea struck her. Why not him? He wouldn't tell anyone. He wouldn't act on it, he would just pretend like it never happened. But she would know, and it would be a shield, a measure of satisfaction should her husband ever turn out a heartless jerk. Slowly, the ribbon began to lose its grip on her hair. She kept playing with it, watching the Duke of Persis closely out of the corner of her eye. No one else would see it; even if it was possible to see her in such detail from a window in the palace, all the windows not obscured by trees or foliage were in fact in her own chambers. No one would know. The red ribbon slowly fell from her hair, drifting gently in the breeze before crumpling softly onto the ground.

"Whoops!" she said aloud, drawing Sephiran's eyes to her. Then, she leaned over the edge of the table, her fingers stretching, reaching for the ribbon. A tiny gust of wind fluttered the red fabric a few inches farther, and she stretched out even more. Slowly, her chest, still flat against the table, began to slip off the edge. Her left breast, the one closest to Sephiran, began to bulge slightly, simultaneously being flattened against the massage board and dragged off by her torso as she reached farther and farther out. Then, she felt it slip off the precipice, bouncing gently as gravity grappled with it, caressed by the sun's rays for the first time all day. It was also in plain view of the man lying only a few feet distant. Sanaki's fingers closed around the ribbon, and she pulled back quickly, her breast under cover within a few moments of its release. The whole incident was over in less than ten seconds.

Sanaki licked her lips, her face red as the ribbon she had retied around her hair. She had done it; she had purposely let a man see her breast. Her heart was pounding a drum against her ribs, the thrill of success pulsating with every beat. She turned her head toward Sephiran. He was watching her, a slightly surprised look on his face, and Sanaki knew he had seen everything. "What?" she questioned, feigning ignorance. She pressed him further, knowing that he was too much a gentleman to embarrass her in such away. "What is it?"

"Nnn... nothing, Empress," he answered, and Sanaki glimpsed his eyes flick once to her torso before his head turned around to look away from her. She smiled slyly. He had no idea.

She turned away from him as well, lust burying itself even farther into her being. Her act of exposure was one of the most exciting things she had done in as long as she could remember. She had always relished the rare opportunities she had to embrace taboo and ignore all the expectations of her position. It helped that Sephiran was there; revealing herself to a random passersby would be embarrassing, but letting Sephiran see her was more like giving a treat to a man who worked hard to keep her happy while simultaneously spiting all the Senators who longed to be the first to take her. Another twang of lust took her, and her head turned back to Sephiran. She wanted to show more of herself to him, she wanted him to think abouther, to fantasize about her, to _crave_ her. How far could she go? How much could she bring herself to push him before getting cold feet? She wanted to test the limits, to show her that she was more than just a chaste, moral, upstanding figurehead. She was a _person_. One thing was certain, though; Sephiran would never make the first move. If she wanted to take her rebellion all the way, she needed to do that herself. The thought scared her. All those years of learning from the old women who ran the biggest cathedral to Ashera in all of Tellius, all those years of having their strict and stifling morals suffocate her; the chains of those teaching were hard to just throw off. Taking him to her bed was going too far. She decided right there that, no matter how far she went otherwise, she would never make love to him.

She smiled, her decision final.

~-~-~-~

The elaborate clock ticked on the wall, its cold, metal gears laboriously inching the two hands along the ring of numbers. Sanaki loved clocks. Their rhythmic ticking soothed her, helped her shrug off her troubles. Every morning, she would get out of bed and wind the big wooden timepiece on the wall religiously, enjoying the smooth clicking it made as she turned the tiny key.

It was this clock that Sanaki now watched, sinking into a comfortable armchair. The soft sheen of sweat brightened her fair skin, the tiny layer of liquid grabbing her loose blouse and pulling it tight against her slender figure. It was not as hot as the day before, but it was still blistering outside, drawing salty sweat from the depths of her skin. Fifteen minutes remained until that day's meeting with Sephiran. The very thought of him made her heart flutter with nervous excitement, her face blushing a little in anticipation. Muscles jerking unnaturally, she got to her feet, placing herself in front of the tall, ornate mirror gracing her chest of drawers. She studied herself intently, her eyes raking across her slender frame. Her long, ocean-blue hair fell smoothly down the milky shoulders exposed by the tenuous straps of the airy, black-silk blouse that rose and fell smoothly with the gentle curve of her delicate breasts. Around her waist, she wore a modest, white skirt, light and billowy, that swirled gracefully as she walked. It hid her slim, attractive thighs that balled into cute knees only to thin out again into her fair calves. Sanaki leaned forward, pushing her torso down, watching the loose top fall open, the soft pink of her nipples just tantalizingly visible in the murky blackness beneath her shirt. One hand reached up, closing the shirt against a snowy breast, gently holding it in its fingers. Her fingers caressed the soft fat through the blouse, and Sanaki shuddered as a finger gently flicked at her nipple. Her hand lowered slowly, slipping beneath the silk, before rising up her torso again, clasping the round semi-sphere of fat in her narrow fingers. Her pretty face lit up red, her honeyed eyes closing. A few seconds of pleasure gloriously by, but then Sanaki reluctantly lowered her hand. It was time to see Sephiran.

Within minutes, she was lounging gracefully Sephiran's couch, her body dominated by the oppressive red cloak. Her bare feet wriggled in the air, pedicured nails gleaming softly, her sandals forgotten on the floor beside her. She was the picture of immaculate, virginal beauty. By contrast, Sephiran looked terrible. His handsome face had sunk deeply within itself, deep purple shadows clinging to his eyes, his lips curled down unnaturally, hair tousled and knotted, heavy black dots peppering his chin and upper lip. His hands were shaking nervously, clasping and unclasping, knuckles cracking. Sanaki was getting rather nervous; what would happen if Sephiran became sick or ineffective, plagued by this awful insomnia? Sanaki couldn't handle the senate by herself, and what little control she had over her country would vanish like smoke in a breeze. "Another sleepless night, Sephiran?" she asked, running her fingers through her hair, studying him closely.

Sephiran nodded blearily, eyes half-closed. "Yeah... Yesterday was the only day I've slept in almost a week... That massage really helped, S-Sanaki..." The minister's pale blue eyes jumped for a moment to the young Empress's chest, and a light, conspiratory smile danced across her face. "I'm glad you managed to get _some_ rest," she replied, hiding her grin behind a platitude. A strange sense of power swelled inside of her, unlike the usual type she felt while issuing orders. She felt like she was _dominating_ Sephiran, molding him in her hands. Swiping an imaginary drop of sweat from her forehead, Sanaki, her voice haughty and expectant, asked, "You wouldn't mind if I took this cloak off, would you Sephiran? It's awfully hot."

"I'm... I'm not sure that would, would be appropriate..." Sephiran voice stuttered as he was caught off guard, but Sanaki had already stripped the coarse, heavy fabric from her body, letting fall atop her sandals on the ground.

Sanaki looked up, pretending she hadn't heard him. "Did you say something?" she asked, cocking her head coyly.

"Um... No," Sephiran answered, his eyes pulled like magnets to the white skin of her chest and shoulder, and along the rim of the loose blouse that cut down to the beginnings of her breasts.

Sanaki smiled thinly, the feeling of domination growing stronger along with a joyful satisfaction. She had always loved power, her ability to control others, but this was better than ever before. For once, her conquest was not a mere side effect of her birth, but a result of her own efforts, her own plans. She had effectively reduced a man normally so cool and confident into a wide-eyed, lustful shadow. She watched keenly as his eyes, rimmed with dark exhaustion and lined with red veins, jerked across her body, drawing in every little detail, halting with an erotic fixation as she adjust her torso to a more comfortable position, blouse ruffling gently, breasts shifting. "How's my little pet project going, Sephiran?" she asked, her golden eyes piercing into his blue-greens.

Sephiran's eyes avoided hers; unusual for a man so comfortable speaking to an audience. "I, I sent some more letters to varioouuuus, " Sephiran's voice stretched as a yawn punctuated his sentence. "Various nobles. I have not heard back from them yet."

Tiny lines of annoyance gathered on her face as Sanaki frowned, her delicate nose wrinkling. "I expected more progress by now, you know," answered curtly, legs crossing, arms folding beneath her breasts, lifting them gently. "Considering you never sleep, I thought you would be able to get _something_ more done."

Sephiran didn't answer for a moment. His eyes closed tiredly, his mouth a hard line, hands rubbing dejectedly against his forehead and drifting slowly into his long, black hair. His face fell from Sanaki's view as a curtain of black fell across his face for a moment, before parting back over his shoulders as he pulled his head back up. "I'm sorry," he enunciated deliberately, voice slow, eyes peering blearily at her. His mouth slanted suddenly. "I'm sorry, Empress, but I am not a god and I just _can't_ do everything! Ashera knows I tried, but I haven't slept in days, I can hardly think, and I just _can't_ deal with your childish insults right now." His chair screeched backward as he stood suddenly, turning his back to her, his frame silhouetted against the dusty city sprawled out before them through the crystal-clear window.

No one spoke for a moment. Then, a sharp command: "Please leave, Empress."

Sanaki was on her feet, brow furrowed furiously at the tall, striking man before her. "Excuse me?" she whispered, unable to believe her ears.

His voice dropped slightly in temperature, at odds with the boiling air. "I asked you to leave, you Majesty. I'll see you tomorrow."

Sanaki stood her ground, desperate to find some way to regain face in front of the only man of importance who had ever given her any in the first place, furious that he would dare speak to her in such a tone, annoyed that she had been so childish and cruel to him, starting this unproductive feud. "Don't talk to me like that, Prime Minister." She replied, voice just as cool. Her back was straight and regal, her arms folded crossly, her eyes boring into his back.

He turned around, a tired, despairing look on his face. She saw his eyes rake once more over the white expanse of her chest between the straps of her blouse, and confidence bloomed within her. She was in control. "Very well," she sighed, conceding victory. "I'll come back tomorrow. Please, do your best to get some sleep, will you?"

The last word belonging to her, she fit her sandals back onto her feet, threw on her cloak, and flounced out the door.

~-~-~-~

Sanaki woke up that morning bathed in a pool of damp, sweat-stained sheets. She crawled out of bed, disgusted, heat prickling violently on her skin. Her clothes were damp and clingy, clutching her skin protectively, reluctantly parting as Sanaki dragged them off, dropping them to the floor. Nudity hardly helped; the heat was so oppressive that day it hardly seemed to care what measures you took to avoid it.

Sanaki slouched languidly to the mirror across the room, powdering her body dry of the sticky moisture that blanketed it. Reaching into her wardrobe, she pulled out random garments from the deepest, coldest recesses of the large oak furniture, relishing the momentary relief from the sweltering temperatures, before the clothing began to trap heat and rebound it back through her filmy skin.

A quick glance at the clock perched regally on the wall gave her the time: eight-thirty. Sanaki groaned, her head lolling back tiredly as her body slumped against a wall. So early in the morning, yet so, so hot. It was promising to be an even worse day than any that had preceded it.

She felt exhausted, the air around her robbing her energy to fuel its rampage, yet oppressing her so much with its heavy-handed touch she could never even approach sleep. One thing was certain: Sephiran did not get any sleep that night.

Sephiran.

His face clouded her mind; strong yet soft, powerful yet kind, striking yet modest. A firm yet loving hand in her life, guiding her through her troubles, leading her in her ventures, drawing her closer as their bodies pressed together, clothes draped uselessly on the floor... The heat-struck fantasy lingered in her mind for hardly a moment before being swept away, barely noticed. What remained was a sense of guilt, remorse for the way she treated her only true friend in this place most of the place. She was close to others; Sigrun, Tanith, Zelgius; but they were gone so often that they could do little to help her much of the time. She had acted churlish and rude to him, biting him with her words, remonstrating him for no apparent wrong, and he had been hurt. She would make up for it, she promised herself, holding a hand to her heart, feeling the soft breast yield to her pressure.

Her thoughts of Sephiran slipped out of sight as fantasies spun by the heat cobwebbed her brain as she sat on the floor, back against the wall, hiding in the shadow of her chest-of-drawers. Her fingers lurched all over her body, gently feeling the soft mounds on her chest beneath her white blouse. Her cheeks reddened, and a tiny needle of lust slipped in between her legs. The slim straps of her blouse fell hesitantly from her shoulders, catching at the crooks her arms. The main body of the garment hung precariously from her breasts until she gently shifted her body, shaking the loose shirt down over her abdomen. Her fingers rubbed the half-globes tentatively, lightly flicking the hardening nipple that flowered on each breast. The two mounds seemed to swell beneath her touch, filling her palms completely as they cupped the glorious orbs, lifting high on her chest. Her back twisted as her fingers began to stroke and grasp with more intensity, twisting the nipples gratuitously, squeezing the soft fat.

She hardly noticed as a rap at the door and her servant Jan's voice informed her breakfast was ready. Sheltered by the soothing shade of her chest-of-drawers, her chest was bare and her fingers were between her legs, caught between her closed thighs as the hand gently pulsed. Purple hair spun down her shoulders and chest, darkened and oily with sweat. Her golden eyes gazed blankly through half-shut lids as she made her own pleasure, images of a faceless lover cycling through her mind. Only when the second knock came did she came to, drawing her hand out from her warm thighs. Brushing her long, violet hair from her eyes, she noticed the sticky liquid that coated her fingers. Blushing terribly, she quickly pulled her clothes back on, hating the heat they brought her, and got to her feet to quickly, feeling her head spin as blood rushed out of it.

"Empress? Are you all right? Empress?" Jan's voice was tense and worried through the door.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, just getting dressed..." Sanaki called, hurriedly wiping her fingers dry and running a brush through her sleep-tousled hair. When she judged herself presentable, she opened the door.

"Breakfast is ready, your Majesty," Jan told her, bowing. "Would you like it in the dining room or your bedroom?"

"M-my room, please..." Sanaki stuttered, anticipation of the alone time she would have caressing her sensitive areas like a lover's hand.

"Of course..." Jan studied her for a moment. "Your Majesty, pardon my intrusion, but are you feeling all right? You seem rather flushed."

Sanaki commanded her voice to steady, straightening her back. "Of course I'm all right," she replied, allowing a hint of impatience to tint her words. "You may fetch my breakfast now." With an imperious snap, the door shut to her servant. Sanaki leaned back against the closed door, sliding down the polished oak, desperate urges tearing her mind apart. Why was she feeling that way? The question burned into her skull as her fingers clenched the carpeted floor to keep from leaping to her body, not wanting to be disturbed when Jan arrived with her meal. Why was she feeling so... so aroused? Sanaki couldn't answer herself.

Two hands encircling her breasts... Sanaki looked up, seeing the calm, handsome face of her Prime Minister inches above her own, a quietly condescending expression on his face. His thumbs played with her erect nipples while his long, elegant fingers squeezed her swelling mounds. A touch so warm and exciting, an electric charge running through her body... His fingers were between her legs now, convulsing inside of her, another hand clutching her breast with wanton force, skin pure white from blood loss, fantastically aroused. He was inside her now, their hips joined, her tiny, delicate body held close against his tall, slender muscle... Sanaki gasped and moaned as he pounded her with increasing vigor, her lips kissing and tasting his hard, protective chest. Then, a climax, another, and another, and still he kept at her. Pleasure buzzed so loudly at the base of her skull, and she could only think of her lover, his tender touch, his powerful lovemaking...

A knock at the door at her back smashed her fantasy, jerking her back into the real world. Sanaki once again found her hands all over her body, clothes on the floor, hardly able to remember taking them off. This time, though, the knock could not take away her lust. "J-just leave it at the d-door!" she called out, wincing as her fingers pulsed erotically within her.

A muffled voice through the door: "Empress, you know I can't leave your meals out in the open. You might be poisoned! Please, can you come and take it? Or would you like me to bring it inside to you?"

"No!" Her shout hung ominously in the air, and Sanaki cursed herself. She knew her servant would be suspicious if it continued like that. With incredible reluctance, she quickly redressed and got to her feet. Composing herself, she opened the door, this time swinging it wide to show Jan that nothing was amiss. "Just give it to me, then," she said, giving an immature pout, hoping for him to blame her anger on her youthful stubbornness.

Jan studied her quizzically, a wrinkled eye boring into her honeyed ones as he handed her the tray. "Here you go, Empress. May Ashera's blessing protect you." He bowed and left.

Sanaki closed the door behind her, sighing with relief. Fury gripped her. Why couldn't she control herself? Why did she break down life that, _right in front of the door_? Was it possible that Jan had heard her? No... He head been too composed for that, too patronizing. But she wouldn't be as lucky next time. Using the iron will she had developed from years of politics, Sanaki forced herself to eat her food, completely ignoring the urges and impulses that tumbled in her head and loins.

She met Sephiran at the usual time that day. As her eyes first caught sight of the raven-haired man upon walking through the door, Sanaki's worst fears were confirmed: Sephiran had indeed not slept at all. His cracked, red whites surrounded by black and blue rings, the shadowy fuzz covering his face, his lank, untamed hair, greasy and oily, the sweat-stains that dampened his collar; all proof. However, upon her arrival, his head snapped up quickly, and he flashed her a grin. "Good morning, Empress. Have a good night? I'm sorry to say I didn't." All this came out before Sanaki even had time to say her own greeting. Sephiran's voice was fast, energetic but feeble, on the verge of falling apart all together.

"Sephiran... what are we going to do?" Sanaki asked softly, pulling off her sweater and kicking her sandals next to the sofa. "You need to sleep."

"On the contrary, my beautiful young flower, I feel I must have slept a little last night: I haven't felt this good in ages! I feel like I can do anything!" A twittering giggle came from his mouth.

Young flower? Sephiran had never referred to her in such a way before, and a warning began to buzz in the back of her head. Sephiran needed sleep, and fast. He was still talking, words flooding out of his mouth in a torrent, his arms swinging and gesticulating with wild abandon, a joyful smile creasing his face. All his energy, Sanaki could see it was a thin veil, covering a core rotten with exhaustion. Sanaki collapsed onto the couch, propping her feet up on the arms, her knee-length skirt gently being dragged down her thigh by gravity. Sephiran was becoming a problem.

"-and guess what, my dear girl, I have the most wonderful news! I got a letter back from one of the nobles from my own native Persis, accepting our proposal to put a Laguz into his administration! It seems that not all senators are bad, eh? He's a good man, I met him a few times at functions at my castle, a bit eager but he's dependable, and-"

"Sephiran."

"Sanaki?" That awful, overjoyed, exhausted smile cut across his face again. His eyes, jumpy and energetic, slid up her body. Sanaki realized her skirt had bunched up on the upper end of her thigh, leaving the rest of her leg exposed. She felt his gaze felt his gaze caress the white skin before flicking across her chest to finally focus on her face.

"Sephiran, you really need to sleep. To be honest, you've cracked. Tonight, promise me you'll try to find a sleep stave somewhere." Her voice was low and calming, leaving her mouth as a breath. "I know their expensive, and I'll pay you back tomorrow, but please, you've got to do this."

He watched her for a moment, the smile gone. Suddenly he seemed to slump, the energy burned away. "I've gotten a Laguz into office, you know. Was that not your wish?"

"Sephiran. _Please_, promise me you'll do whatever it takes to fall asleep tonight. You're on leave until you're fully rested."

"Sanaki-"

"Sephiran, please don't make me order you."

Sephiran got to his feet and turned his back to the young empress, watching the populace mill about the city. "Very well, my flower. I shall find a sleep stave. I promise."

Sanaki stood as well, crossing the room to stand next to him. "Thank you," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him. She felt the limp and weak body fold under her pressure, and she instinctively hugged him tighter, before leaving him in peace.

~-~-~-~

Something stirred. As Sanaki's eyes opened, a bright orange light shafted into her poorly-adjusted pupil, as she squinted for a moment, before opening again. She saw the light flicker against the black bedroom behind it, and Sanaki's eyes finally adjusted enough for her to recognize it as a candle. The young empress propped herself up on one arm on the bed, that hand that rubbed her eyes brushing frictionlessly against the sweaty skin, and stared at the waxen stick for a moment, until finally remembering she had not put it there.

"Sanaki! You are awake!" The voice came from beside her; Sanaki jumped, her head snapping to the source of the voice, her spine sliding up the backboard of her bed. Sephiran was sitting in a chair, wearing the same clothes as he had during their meeting. Sanaki sat frozen, stunned for several moments before finally regaining her voice. "Sephiran? What... what are you doing here? What time is it? What's wrong?"

Sephiran straightened his legs, walking from the chair over the side of the mattress closest to her. His blue eyes, cobwebbed with spidery lines of blood, eyeing her benignly, though Sanaki could sense something beneath his gaze. "Nothing's wrong, little flower, I just came to see _you_." His tongue rolled around the final word, letting it hang in the air.

"What?" Sanaki couldn't understand what was happening. She realized that she was dressed only in her nightclothes, a light shirt and panties, and that the sheets had sunk down to her knees as she had jumped up the backboard. She slowly pulled them back up to her waist.

Her prime minister smiled at her movement. "I came to see you, darling. Not to speak about business or politics or all those other plagues to our lives, but to see _you_. After all, why should we deny this any longer?" That energetic vibrato was back in his voice, shaking it with tension.

Sanaki drew away slowly, not comprehending. "Deny what? And couldn't you have waited until morning? I'm tired."

Sephiran laughed, and, though its high-pitch fluttering was the same as usual, that night it chilled her bones. "Sanaki, Sanaki..." he whispered cheerfully, his hand coming down to her face, a long, manicured finger caressing her cheek. It was a move that had pleased her so much at any other time; now it sent waves of cold fear through her body. "You know this cannot wait." His thumb touched her chin, lifting her face, and his head bent forward so close she could see individual spots of black on his unshaven face. She was also close enough to feel the insanity seeping from his very being. "Why should be put our mutual... attraction... on hold to please ages-old traditions put in place by others? We know what we want, we know what we _need..._"

Sanaki turned her face out of his hands, inching away along the bed. Her heart was pounding rapidly in her chest, frightened by his words. Mutual attraction? "S-Sephiran, I think there is some sort of mistake. I don't-"

His hand was hardly a blur in her peripheral vision before it wrapped around her shoulders, halting her retreat. His other hand touched her face again, caressing her tousled hair. "Don't think I didn't notice, darling..." he whispered, his lips at her ear, his rugged cheek scraping against hers. "I knew what you were doing. All those times you threw off those unflattering clothes of yours, I know now what you were doing. You were _flirting_ with me. In your youth, you could find no other way to show your desire for me in any other way than showing me your body. It embarrassed me at first, for I wasn't sure such an affair would be a good idea, but you were persistent. But, just this morning, I realized that I did not care for those useless rules society places upon us, and that I wanted you, too. Now, my Empress, under the cover of night, we can be together."

Sanaki was mute, Sephiran's words breaking on her like an ocean wave. What had she done? In her foolishness, she had bared herself continuously, thinking that he would consider it accident, or comfort. But he was the most intelligent man he knew, and she should have realized that he would put the clues together and form _some _sort of conclusion. And in his exhaustion, he had misinterpreted her, and she was about to pay the price...

His lips brushed her ear, teeth nipping at the flesh lobe. Sanaki gasped, trying to pull away from him, but his arm was firm. Soft lips kissed her neck and cheek, drifting steadily to her own mouth, as his other hand gently caressed her arm. Sanaki wriggled, willing her voice to come back to her. It responded feebly, croaking, "Sephiran, n-no... You're, you're wrong, I wasn't... flirt-ting with, with you..." He ignored her, his hand slipping off her arm onto her thigh. His mouth came to hers, his hot breath stimulating her lips, his tongue gently prying its way into her pursed lips, licking her own. Sanaki shuddered, trying to pull away again, but he was too strong for her. The long arm around her slender shoulders pulled her down, pressing her firmly against the feathery bed. A soft hand cautiously trailed up from her thigh across her abdomen and Sanaki could sense where it was going. With a forceful jerk, she broke her face away from his, her own hand gripping his wrist, her other trying to push his heavy frame off her light one. "Sephiran, _stop it_." She hissed, honeyed eyes glaring into his sharp blues. "You are _deluded_. I was _not_ flirting with you, and I _never_ was." Her voice was scathing, derisive, and Sanaki hoped it would be enough to get him off her for just a second. Then she could scream. "_I do not want you!_"

Sephiran was silent for a moment, unmoving. His eyes bored into hers, stiletto knives burying themselves into her pupils, until she had to look away. "You lie," he whispered, and with a sudden movement, tore his hand from her grasp, pinning it to the bed. His other arm came out from beneath her, grabbing her other wrist in an iron grip. His legs were straddling her thighs and his hair cascaded off his face into the air between them. His right hand released her left, gently caressing her crimson cheek. "Your cheeks are burning up, your Majesty. I know that sign very well..." The hand jumped sharply off her face, falling onto her breast before she could stop it. Her hand beat uselessly against the hard knuckles as his fingers squeezed the small mound delicately, thumb feeling out the nipple beneath the shirt. "And this one, your Majesty..." It was hard and taut, tingling forcefully under his touch. She gritted her teeth together, wishing that it didn't please her so much, wishing she had been telling the truth earlier, wishing that she could stop her body from reacting so eagerly. His voice was in her ear again, an airy whisper. "You _do _want me..." His caresses escalated, eliciting an involuntary moan that slipped between her parted lips. The shirt fabric scraped against the sensitive skin of her nipple, his palm rubbing them together, fingers digging into the soft fat.

"Sephiran..." she moaned, her cry both a plea for less and a plea for more, a plea for abstinence and a plea for lust, a plea for desire and a plea for satisfaction...

The older man sat up momentarily, pulling the airy nightshirt off her body, exposing every contour of her torso. Her shoulders were slim and youthful, her breasts small but perky, swollen and firm, her nipples pink and erect, her stomach smooth and flat. Her curves were slight but attractive and Sephiran ran his hands along them, caressing her body from her hips across her waist to the gentle mounds of her breasts. He cupped them, feeling their light weight rolling around in his hands. Sanaki began to bite her nails, her thumb jammed against her cherry-red lips. Her eyes were screwed shut, dark lashes decorating her rosy cheeks, after making the mistake of looking down. Sephiran's long fingers splayed across her snowy breasts, a hint of pink between the fingers, the lustful gaze fixed upon his face... What she had seen unleashed a torrent of emotion, ranging from fear and anger to lust and excitement. Unable to cope with those feelings all at once, she had merely looked away, thinking it would be better to pretend they were her own hands...

The hands grew more frenzied and energetic in their fondling, and Sanaki's nipples hardened fully on her chest, jutting out into the half-light. One hand began to tug at the pink stub that flowered on her white breast, stretching the breast to its full potential, forcing a tiny gasp that was muffled against her hand. The other breast was squeezed, pushing the skin and nipple upwards. Sanaki felt a soft flurry of hair gather on her chest before a real gasp of pleasure escaped her lips. Sephiran's tongue met her nipple, slowly revolving it on its axis, a constant stream of pleasure flooding into Sanaki's loins. She felt herself reluctantly entering the height of her arousal, warm moisture gathering between her legs. She crossed her thighs and tried to jerk her prone torso out of his grasp but couldn't, and Sephiran's lips closed around her nipple. They began to suck it greedily, tongue frantically coiling around it, and Sanaki moaned with delight, silently urging the only partially unwanted lover on.

Sanaki felt her hands grip the purple sash encircling his waist, pulling it loose and throwing it to the side of the bed. His robes parted at the middle, and he helped her toss those to the side as well. Sanaki watched in frightened amazement as Sephiran sat up for a moment, his silk shirt quickly crawling up his chest and dropping, revealing the tough, slender, comforting torso. He fell back down on her, flattening her breasts against that protective chest of his, kissing her nose before pressing his lips against her own, and this time Sanaki kissed back, their tongues gently touching between their mouths. His hands squeezed between their prone bodies to catch her firm, swollen breasts again, tenderly massaging them, every bit the gentleman. Her muscles tensed under his caress, and she felt her legs open to accept his own of their own free will. She did not close them.

One hand of his reached back, touching her thigh. She shuddered, thigh swaying as his fingers drew in the beauty of her lithe frame, holding the soft fat in a merciful grip, cautiously letting his thumb travel upwards along the soft leg. Sanaki felt it draw closer and closer, all the while his other hand shaping her supple breast, his fingers fondling her nipple, his tongue exploring her mouth, and in her arousal she allowed the hand to reach the core of her body, still covered by her panties. The delicate fabric was warm and damp, and she closed her legs for the briefest of moments to allow him to pull them off. He rubbed with the very tips of his fingers, stroking her, and a long, shuddering gasp rattled from Sanaki's body, through their kiss. She could feel the hard erection in his pants jutting against her thigh grow even bigger as he touched her, and her desire grew in tandem with her disbelief that any of that was actually happening.

Her soft, delicate right hand strayed down her side on its own accord, brushing between his and her bodies, until, suddenly, her fingers arrived at the long, hard bulge in his pants. Nervous fear pierced her chest, and she withdrew the curious fingers, heart pounding at her boldness. Deep shades of red blossomed on her cheeks, and she looked away from him, eyes slamming shut as the stream of pleasure between her legs became a river, every breath released as a moan or gasp. She felt the tingling joy at her breast dissipate as his hand left, only to return a moment later and clasp her own right hand. Squeezing it firmly and comfortingly, he pulled it back down her side, all the while still stroking her core, letting it fall onto his hidden erection. Sanaki couldn't bear to watch or even move her hand as she felt the silk fabric of his pants slide away as he stripped. Her hand now lay perched on the real thing, the hard, fleshy shaft of his penis, drawn forth to that great size by her own attributes. Sanaki shut her eyes tighter, skin wrinkling, tousled blue hair tossed across her face in jagged blue streams. Her hand began to move, tips of her fingers gingerly wandering about his erection, arousing in their very virginal aimlessness. Sephiran shifted, touching his penis to her palm, and Sanaki's fingers wrapped around it. It was warm, and hard, and it seemed to radiate a harsh sexuality that seeped in through her quivering fingers, flowing through her veins to the beating heart beneath her soft breasts. She began to stroke him, rubbing the head of his penis with her thumb as her palm rose and fell along the shaft.

Neither moved as both pleasured the other; Sanaki lying on her back, body stretched out for her lover's eyes, head turned away from him, eyes padlocked shut, hand tasting his masculinity; Sephiran lying on his side, propped on one elbow, beside her, lower hand caressing her closest breast, the other exploring the untested waters between her legs, his eyes flicking this way and that, aroused by the pure, snowy virginity of her body. Sephiran leaned his thin face, silhouetted by his long, dark hair, forward, kissing the white neck of his Empress. He tasted the sweet skin, leaving a red spot against the pearly white, and Sanaki moaned delightfully. Digging his hand further between her thighs, he gave her earlobe a little flick of the tongue before kissing her cheek, steadily pecking her as he approached those crimson lips that blossomed on her smooth face. His own lips brushed the profile of hers, and she turned her head back up, opening her mouth to his. As they kissed, their movements became more urgent, more feverish; Sanaki began stroking faster, the hand across her breast squeezed and caressed with more force, the fingers inside of her wriggled and fluctuated deeper and deeper. Sanaki felt her climax coming, building up within her, so much more powerful than it was by herself. It exploded with in her, and she cried out in pleasure, arms jumping up and wrapping around Sephiran, pulling herself against his naked body.

There was no movement for an eternity, just stillness. Sanaki's body buzzed with the aftermath of her orgasm, all her muscles tensed within her. In an iron grip, she held her prime minister, her nails digging into his back, breasts touching his chest, face buried into his shoulder. Sephiran held her close, stroking her deep blue hair, kissing her scalp and forehead. Slowly, her muscles relaxed as the intense pleasure that had flooded her body trickled away, leaving only a desire for more. Her grip loosened, and she fell back against the bed, breath coming in deep gulps. Though her eyes were closed, she sensed Sephiran coming nearer, his lips touching hers tenderly, their tongues caressing lovingly, his hand stroking her hips and cupping her breast, wandering aimlessly.

Sanaki felt Sephiran shift above her. He was kneeling on top of her now, perched on one arm, the other still fondling her body, until their kiss broke, and Sephiran sat up, sliding down her petite frame until both hands were at her hips. Sanaki knew what was coming, knew that there was no way to stop it, but did not know whether or not it was unwelcome. "Please be gentle..." she whispered, looking away.

"Of course, my little Empress," Sephiran answered in return, prodding his erection in between her legs. It found purchase at the entrance to her core, and her lover lifted both her thighs away to allow easier access. Then, slowly, slowly, so very slowly, he began to push himself in, her body folding against his penis. Sanaki gasped, wriggling instinctively, but Sephiran held her firm, steadily inching deeper. A sharp, continuous line of pleasure lanced from her core, like a needle digging gracefully into her loins, never stopping. Then, a high-pitched cry split from her throat as her virginity was broken, and he kept going in, deeper and deeper, undaunted by the trickle of blood. Her wild, free flowing thoughts strayed to the lecherous old men who watched her at the senate gatherings with those glittering eyes, all wanting to be the first to marry her and the first to bed her, and Sanaki smiled through the sharp dagger of pain coated with its layer of pleasure. What a punch in the eye this would be to them...

Their hips met, Sephiran's erection buried within her up to the hilt. Then, he pulled out, sliding as far as he could without leaving. A grunt, and he pushed back in quickly, forcefully, eliciting a high, moaning gasp from Sanaki's lustrous throat. He began to pump, sliding in and out, in and out, in and out, never faltering, each stroke a hammer of pleasure striking them both in the abdomen. After what felt like no time at all Sanaki climaxed, but he kept going, watching her body pulse gently with each thrust. Her lithe, milky body was fluttering, hips gyrating, breasts bouncing, head bobbing up and down on the bed. Another climax, another cry of pleasure. He never missed a beat, and Sanaki's lustful hands jumped to her breasts, fondling them wantonly. Again, the best so far. Sephiran was like a demon, never tiring, never faltering, never enough. Until, with a carnal grunt, he pulled out of the warm core of her body and reached his apex. His warm, sticky semen jetted out across her chest.

Sephiran keeled over, collapsing onto the bed beside her, his arm laid upon her abdomen. His face lay next to hers, his clear blue eyes staring into her golden ones. He flashed a smile, gave her a quick kiss on the nose, then his eyes fell shut.

A few moments passed, and Sanaki got out of bed. Only then did she realize how sweaty the nighttime heat and their... strenuous activity... had made her. Sanaki couldn't bring herself to think back to the act of lust and love they had performed. Why, she thought, dipping a rag into a small bowl of water on her chest-of-drawers, had she submitted to him? She scrubbed her chest with the cloth, drying herself of Sephiran's would-be-children. A child. Had she been looking for an excuse to bear his child? What if... What if he hadn't pulled out? What if she had become pregnant? It was the right time of month... They would have had to be married, and never again would she feel alone, never again would she have to worry about the senate, rotten to its core, lording over her... Had she subconsciously known that marrying Sephiran was the safest and easiest way out of her mess? Was that why she had seduced him? Or was it for a different reason?

She looked back at the long, thin body stretched across her silken bed. Yes... She had told herself at the very beginning that she would not sleep with him, a decision made from nervousness and fear. Now she had a better idea...

No need to tell him about the child they would be having together. That would just disturb him, and her Prime Minister was still, finally asleep.

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**Thanks for reading this absurdly long fanfic, and I hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are wonderful, and feel free to suggest any pairings.**


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